A Journey of the Forgotten
by Singh
Summary: When your course is unclear, and your fate uncertain...the most incredible journeys can come to life, with the greatest amount of risks. But not all risky journeys are incredible...and some remain forgotten in time...until now.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_This is the audio log of Admiral Aken Bosch, ex-leader of the Neo Terran Front._

_It has been almost 4 days since we left the last traces of Terran forces inside the Nebula beyond Gamma Draconis. It's been a hard time living in the cramped interior of the Shivan transport, and communication has been crude since then, but we have managed to adapt to the surroundings and the attempts are getting clearer everyday. The Shivans have mostly left us alone on the transport, with only a single pilot onboard. This is to allow us to modify the transport to fit our needs. Gibson has already managed to renovate quite a portion of the ship as it is, but still, we now face the crisis of a lack of food and water._

_Our communications sorties with the Shivans have been short and brief, but extremely detailed. Each time the ETAK device is activated, I am welcomed to a host of new information of our former enemies. The fools in the GTVA could not have imagined the wealth of knowledge the Shivans have of not only our civilizations, but that of the ancients as well. Upon going through this, it fills me with both joy as well as sadness to think that all our conflicts, all our differences in the past have been just one unholy mistake. Everything I have lived and fought for; It's all been vindicated, all been justified, by what the Shivans have shown me here today._

_No human being could imagine what they have been doing all these years. We all thought that the Shivans were the great destroyers, the possible extinction of both our species. I do not blame those who thought that, for it is what the scenario looks like from the surface. But now I have the insight and the truth of the situation._

_Unfortunately, it is the entire damning truth of the situation. The Shivans are only part of a much larger problem that haunts not only the Humans and Vasudans themselves, but the ancients too. From what the Shivans have told me, the problem doesn't stop there as well, for they do not know how far or wide it is present in this universe……or if it even is just to this universe as well. _

_The Shivans were waiting for us, just as they were waiting for the ancients to arrive and as well as the races before them. Why they destroyed the ancients and not humanity, they refused to tell me, but they did tell me that all will be revealed at our destination. The Shivans are currently taking us to an unknown location where they claim food and supplies will be available to us, and from where our journey may begin. _

_What exactly this journey is, or where I will be going, I do not know. What I do know is that it appears to be sacred importance to the Shivans, and that only we may embark on it. _

_At this hour, I should be feeling joyful; if not ecstatic…..but then, why do I feel nothing but dread, and a little bit of horror of what's to come?_


	2. Chapter 1: A Bold New Journey

**Chapter 1**

_**A Bold New Journey**_

Gibson looked out at the stars through the makeshift view port. His face was visible clearly in the reflection of the glass. One could see from his face that this was an old and wrinkled man, whose features radiated wisdom. His eyes were sunken in and brown in color, matching the color of the somewhat long front hair that occasionally drooped down to cover it, only to be brushed aside and set back again.

_What are we doing here?_ Gibson asked himself. Why did it seem that the mysteries of the Shivans had simply increased each time they made communications with them? He had watched everyday as the Shivans traversed system after system, nebula past nebula, all to some strange and totally unknown destination. According to his estimate, they had already traveled enough distance to put the GTVA on the other side of the Galaxy. Yet, it didn't seem like they were going to stop just there from what the Shivans had told them…

Speaking of which….Gibson turned from the window to look for Sargo. A somewhat short and stout person, Sargo's most distinguishing feature were his bright blue eyes and blonde hair. A bright and patient young man of Asian origin, Sargo always seemed to go about with a smile, no matter how bad the situation might be. At times of extreme stress, he never got flustered, which was one of the main reasons why Bosch had chosen him to come along with their expedition. While Gibson may have been Bosch's right hand man, Sargo was definitely next in line.

Gibson spotted Sargo a little distance away, towards the back of the room and near the exit that led to Bosch's quarters. He was looking out of the only other window in the cabin, hovering over the floor in the zero G of the transport. Waving his hands, Gibson tried to get Sargo's attention, but when that failed, he had to speak up, shattering the silence in the room with his rather loud and hi-pitched voice.

"Sargo!"

Sargo didn't look back immediately. Gibson spoke up again, this time a bit louder. "Sargo! Are you alright?"

Still no response. Frowning, he kicked himself off the wall and flew across the room towards Sargo's position. It was only at the last minute however, that Gibson realized he had actually used too much force and was flying too fast. But there was no way to stop in the Zero Gravity environment, unless he had something to push against. Unfortunately, to Sargo's unpleasant surprise, that something was him.

"SARGO! Get out of the way" Gibson shouted as he attempted to change his course. His shout must have had some effect, as Sargo shook his head and looked around in surprise. When he saw Gibson flying straight to him, he exclaimed "What the hell!" before ducking out of the way. It was just in time as Gibson hit the far wall, bouncing off of it and into the floor like a ping pong ball. He managed to get a hold on the floor however, and stopped himself before flying off to the ceiling.

Sargo was pretty much surprised and hovering to one side, rubbing his eyes and looking at Gibson. "What the hell are you trying to do Gibson, Kill me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Gibson turned around to look at him for a second, and then merely laughed. "Looks like you needed one too, judging from the way you were asleep."

Sargo frowned. "I wasn't sleeping...err. I was simply resting my eyes." he replied. But when his mouth broke into a big yawn, it gave it all away, leaving his face in a somewhat embarrassed expression.

Gibson merely laughed again before replying. "Look, Sargo, you can go to sleep, just don't go to sleep here. Get back into the general quarters and ask John to replace you. He should be up by this time anyways."

Sargo simply shook his head, refusing the offer. "Look, I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired, that's all. I can keep go-:" his sentence was interrupted by another big yawn. He cursed to himself, muttering something about lack of food and no sleep.

Gibson shook his head sadly, and pointed to the entrance of the room. "Go. Now. Before I make Bosch come out here and send you to bed."

Sargo simply retorted. "I can say the same about you, considering the fact that you've been doing duty for the past two days as well! If I'm tired, then why aren't you?"

"Because I haven't started yawning or -" He froze mid-sentence as _something_ came into view of the window.

"Yeah, or what?" Sargo asked. He obviously hadn't seen what had just come into view. But then he saw that Gibson wasn't paying attention and instead looking outside the window. Sargo turned around to have a look as well. When he saw what was outside also, he could only exclaim "Holy fricking shit. What the hell is _that_ thing?"

Gibson was unable to tear his eyes away from the thing for a few more seconds. But eventually, he did manage it. "Sargo, wake the others." He spoke as he moved towards Bosch's door. Knocking on it, he received a somewhat muffled reply. "Who is it?"

Bosch said, his tone somewhat irritated.

"Sir, its Gibson. I really think you might want to come out and see this."

This is the audio log of Admiral Aken Bosch, ex-leader of the Neo Terran Front.

It's been three days since my last audio log and there has been a lot happening since. The continued use of the ETAK device has allowed us a multitude of refinements and tweaks, all of which has now allowed for near-instantaneous and continual communications with the Shivans. I am communication with them for several hours so far, and the information I have managed to acquire is enough to keep any group of scientists and researchers enough work for decades, if not _centuries!_ Not one person in the GTVA could have imagined how old this race really is, of the events they have witnessed over millions - if not billions - of years in not only our universe, but in others as well.

But then, the mystery remains, why did the Shivans attack us? Why did they attack the Ancients all those Millennia ago? For a race as old as theirs, it seems doubtful they attacked us out of simple xenophobia. If it were as simple as that, then they would not have accepted our signal or even allowed us onboard their vessel for that matter. No, there are other more subtle reasons behind all this. Reasons I must find out soon or risk the survival of myself and my crew.

Some of these reasons however, might be deduced by our current circumstances. After nearly a week of traveling, it appears we have reached our destination. And what a destination it is! We are currently in a small system, in the centre of it is a small white dwarf, barely outputting enough energy to counter the forces of gravity crushing at it's core. Maybe in the distant future, long after our own sun has gone out, this star may collapse to become a black hole or it's less hostile cousin, a neutron star. If in that case, it would most likely suck in its only partner in the system: a lonely gas giant that is in orbit of the star. Its speed and orbit means that it takes several years to complete a single revolution of the star. It's size is not that much larger than Saturn or maybe Neptune. Yet, from what we can see, its atmosphere and environment are far, far more turbulent than anything the Sol system could ever possess. Storms are present all over the atmosphere, with winds moving at super-sonic speeds. 17 Major storms dominate the planet, some of them the size of Earth or the Moon! Upon closer examination, each storm is divided into its own sub-storms and vortices. How such an intricate system can exist is magic in itself. All the laws of turbulence and physics say this is impossible, yet I can see it clearly with my own eyes!

Yet, as fascinating as this may be, it is nothing compared to the object in it's orbit.

The object in question appears to be an unknown device, probably of immeasurable age. I will describe its physical features and appearance first, for the record, before I go onto its other...'properties' so to speak.

The device itself consists of several components. The most obvious one appears to actually be self-dependent and unrelated to the main structure itself. The outer component is a large ring of sorts, around 15 Kilometers in diameter, and is nearly 3 kilometers wide. The portion of the ring facing the outside is made of some unknown metal, and is full of unknown systems and structures. It appears to be heavily armored, capable of taking great bombardment. The interior of the ring however, is the most fascinating feature. The interior of the ring appears to have been crafted similar to a planet of sorts. Gravitational generators keep it intact and running smoothly, but the ring's natural rotation appears to be the main source of gravity here, allowing an atmosphere to remain attracted to the surface. From what we can translate of the Shivan instruments, the gravity appears to be around Earth normal, as well as the atmosphere for that matter. It is amazing because once we looked at it from extreme magnification; we could see trees, birds and even animals! An entire eco-system exists there, consisting of desert regions, snow-filled canyons and even tropical paradises. It seems like the perfect vacation spot, or for us - the best spot to acquire some food and water.

However, as good as it may seem, the ring appears...incomplete somehow. As if it was more of the first prototype of a grand design, meant only to test certain features and then be done with. It lacks any advanced equipment or any area where a large population could exist. Apart from the basic design and the wild creatures, the ring appears abandoned.

Which might just be a good thing considering the structure that it is housed around.

The internal structure itself appears to be separate from the ring. It is in a starfish shape, except with only four massive arms stretching out to almost touch the ring as it rotates around. From tip to tip, the arms are nearly 10 Kilometers long, making it a somewhat tight fit. The arms themselves are almost 4 kilometers wide at the tip, and 2 kilometers thick. It expands into the main body, with a curvature on each side between itself and the arms next to it. The main body itself is thick and cylindrical, with a massive hole in the centre. This hole is more of a cylinder of sorts, nearly 6 Kilometers long and with a diameter of 4 Kilometers; it could easily allow a Colossus-sized vessel to pass through it...or a Sathanas for that matter. The installation appears somewhat dead, a remnant of a bygone era we never knew of. Its origins appear to be completely different from that of the ring, and are much, much older than it could ever be.

As of the moment, the external examination reveals no clue as to the creators of the installation, but whoever it was must have been far more advanced than any race in existence. Sensor readings show the installation producing an energy output in excess of one thousand _Trillion_ Megatons, far more than enough to power several stars at once. Where the energy comes from, or how it is just generated is totally unknown, but one must consider that the installation is most likely in standby mode, indicating a much larger power potential. What all this energy can be used for, I have nothing but a suspicion. Unfortunately, it is but a horrible, terrible suspicion that I hope never comes true. That will only be explained once we step onboard the installation, which might happen soon if the Shivans have their way.

What might be easier to explain however, is the origins of the outer ring. The materials that make up the ring are unknown, but yet bare similarity to those used in the Knossos device, leading me to believe that this may just be a creation of the Ancients.

Perhaps, millennia ago, they too stumbled onto this device and then decided to create this ring around it. Although why they actually built it is a mystery to me, one could possibly imagine how such an advanced civilization was capable of creating such a device. Perhaps it was in response to whatever was inside the installation, something with which to contain the horrors that lay within? Either way, we'll know once we conduct our landing on the surface of the ring.

I've already ordered Gibson and Sargo to get everybody into the environmental suits and turn on the artificial gravity. Living in a zero G environment for the past several days will have affected all our bodies, so making sure being ready is priority now.

The transport won't directly land onto the ring itself, but rather conduct a brief subspace jump into the atmosphere, and then attempt to do a safe crash-landing nearby a location which we have identified as a control centre. It's a bit risky, but it's also our only option here. None of the ships gathered around the installation is capable of planet fall, and this transport is our only option now.

That is the other interesting thing to note about this system. The Shivans have gathered here en-masse, as if preparing for some massive exodus. From what we limited view we have, thousands of Shivan vessels are filling the space between the installation and the planet. They range from the smallest fighters to Lucifer class super-destroyers and the massive Sathanas Juggernaughts. No fleet the GTVA could muster can match what the Shivans wield here, and I doubt any real fleet could really match it. We've counted over a hundred Juggernaughts so far, along with over double that number of Lucifer destroyers. There are also a number of Shivan vessels of a totally unknown class. They are much larger than the Lucifer, yet smaller than the Sathanas. However, from their mere appearance, they appear to be capable of wielding just as much firepower as the Sathanas.

All these ships…why are they gathered here? What is this installation? And most importantly, why are _we_ here? So many questions, so few answers and every time more information comes in, it only brings with it even more questions. I guess the answers will come only after we've been to the surface, at the least.

This is Admiral Bosch, signing off.


	3. Chapter 2: Setting the Destination

**Chapter 2**

_**Setting the Destination**_

Several hours later, the scene outside Bosch's quarters was much, much more different. Although Bosch himself wasn't here, the rest of them were. Everyone was in full environmental suits, covered from head to toe and with the mini-grav generators turned on. Unfortunately for most of them, this was the toughest part yet for them all. Adapting back to normal Earth gravity after nearly a week of zero-g was the hardest part, and quite a few of the people gathered were complaining about it too.

Except for Gibson that is and Sargo that is. Both were the first ones to get into the suits almost immediately after Bosch had ordered it. Of course, they had been complaining about it earlier too, but now at least they were somewhat used to it. Looking at the others, he cleared his throat, trying to catch there attention. When that didn't work, he tried again. Still no response.

Getting somewhat irritated at the group, he shouted out loud, finally attracting there attention. "Gentlemen! Calm down and quit your god darn bitching already!"

After that, they all stopped and turned to look at him and Sargo, who was standing right next to him.

"I know the suits and the gravity are hard to bear, but we've still got a job to do." He paused for a second before smiling and continuing.

"Besides, haven't you guys been listening at all? We're going to Crash-land this flying bucket of bolts, which means you better get used to it fast, cause nothing is going to compare to the G's we'll be pulling off soon."

Seeing that they had calmed down a bit, he nodded and began the briefing. He was standing in for Bosch, who was not in the cargo deck holding the ETAK device and talking to the Shivans. They were coming up with a direct plan of action, not to mention modifying the controls so that Bosch could fly the ship down. Gibson was a bit uneasy with letting Bosch fly the ship down, even though he did have immense experience with flying as a pilot for the GTA of old. The man was much older now and his age could easily pose a risk to all of them. Gibson's own personal preference would have either been Sarno or John. Both of them were ace pilots in their own rights, with the former having flown the massive Ursa bomber and having an idea of how to handle large ships.

But still, Bosch had been adamant. He would fly them down, and without a risk. When hearing of Gibson's recommendations, he had only given a short laugh before simply saying "While Sarno may have flown an Ursa before, rest assured, I had plenty of experience flying such things myself. This transport will be no different. Rest assured Gibson, I will bring us down in one piece."

"Gibson, you may want to start now." His thoughts were interrupted as Sargo gave him a slight push, waking him up and bringing his mind back to the current situation.

Sargo leaned close in and whispered so only he and Gibson could hear. "Told you to get some sleep too. But nooooo, 'I'll be fine' you said. Nice job Gibson" He winked before standing up straight again and clearing his throat.

Gisbon just shook his head and nodded to everyone. Lacking any holographic machinery or suitable device to conduct the briefing, he motioned for everyone to follow him to a nearby window. The window had the view of the structure they were going to be boarding. Next to the window were crude chalk drawings of not only the outer ring, but a small section of the ring itself. It wasn't much, but at least it was better than nothing. Once everyone was in position and the jokes of how bad his and Sargo's drawings were over, he nodded to everyone and began the briefing.

"Ok then, let's start. First of all, this isn't art class, so you'll have to forgive the bad quality of drawing we see here." He joked, lightening up the mode a bit.

"As you all know, we are currently holding position above this rather strange ring-like structure. The mission is simple: We will be attempting to do a landing on this ring at this area." He pointed first to the ring, and then the small section he had drawn next to it.

"From the looks of it, we'll be landing in the start of a long canyon around 2 clicks in length. The entire canyon is covered in snow, so even if we do crash-land the impact should be a bit cushioned, at the least. Once we get down, our immediate objective is to set up a small base camp. Our environmental suits should protect us in the cold till we can either find a cave or some other natural shelter, or till we can build one. Either way if the transport is still functioning, we'll use it as base camp. We'll each be dividing into teams. Me, Bosch and John will be in one team and will stay back with the transport to try and repair any damage; Sargo, Sarno and Terrick will be in the next. Sargo will be leader; your objective is to check out area A for any caves or natural formations we can use to shelter us against the cold. At the same time, Gerald, Ramayan and Dave will also roam the same area looking for any food we may be able to use. From what we can tell, there appears to be quite a lot of vegetation in the canyon, despite the cold. There might just be enough food available for us to eat, but it may just end up poisonous. Ramayan -"

He paused, looking for Ramayan at the back of the gathered group. He finally saw the dark brown face behind Terrick, looking back at him through the reflection of the suit's helmet glass. When Ramayan nodded, Gibson continued.

"You're the only one of us that's take any sort of course on vegetation and plant life, so you should be able to identify which plants is poisonous and which aren't. Therefore you'll be leader of this team. Water shouldn't be much of an issue since all we need to do is melt the snow."

Ramayan nodded. He didn't seem to have any problems with the issue.

"Raynold, Carlos and Venson, you'll take the final team. Venson, you're in charge."

"Aye Sir, what are we to do?" He replied in his slight Russian accent, his mouth almost totally obscured by the thick moustache and beard that took up quite a lot of his features. Gibson could already tell that he would be the most used to the environmental conditions they were going to go through.

"Simple." Gibson replied. "You'll be scouting around area B, and like team two you'll be searching for shelter as well. All of us will be armed with Hand-held weaponry in case we encounter anything hostile down there. If your team does encounter something hostile, fall back to the transport immediately. Nobody travels alone, and everyone has to be roped together to ensure it too. The terrain is slippery and we have no idea about the local wildlife either, so everyone be careful of any animals or wild creatures you see. If you also happen to find any piece of useful electronic equipment, don't touch it till it can be examined for booby-traps. I bet this ring has been abandoned for a reason and I'd rather not find out what it is till we're out of there. Everyone clear then? Any questions?"

He looked around the gathered group. They all looked pretty determined, if somewhat nervous, of what was to come. Then Gibson noticed a hand rise at the very back. Looking at the person raising it, he could make out Sarno's face through the face plate.

"Yes Sarno?" He asked, nodding at him to put the arm down.

Sarno lowered the arm and asked in a somewhat soft and sullen tone "Just a small question, but how do you intend to keep us all pinned down during landing? It's not like we actually have any seats or seatbelts for that matter you know."

Gibson nodded. This was something he was thinking about as well but fortunately he had found a somewhat simple solution for it.

"Simple, you'll be using your magnetic boots to hold you to the floor. Before landing, we'll all secure ourselves by using Magnetic locks to stick our suits to the wall. It should allow us to remain in one place, but the ride will definitely be bumpy."

Sarno nodded. It looked like the answer had satisfied him for the moment. Yet, he still had a somewhat puzzled expression on his face, as if he wanted to ask something, yet didn't have the guts to.

"Is there anything else Sarno? It looks like you've got another question in you there."

Sarno looked around to the others first, before looking right back at Gibson. "Well Sir...actually there is. I was hoping to ask, who is piloting us down? I don't think the Shivans would be able to survive all those G forces, or know what a soft landing is for that matter."

Gibson was afraid this question was going to come up. But might as well deal with it now rather than later.

"Well, the latest news is that none other than our fearless leader will be flying us down to the surface itself. He's already talked to the Shivans and they are working on setting a proper control system as we speak."

Upon hearing this, the room went silent. All the personnel gathered simply stared at Gibson, putting him in a somewhat uncomfortable position. Sarno was quite literally aghast with surprise. He obviously had been expecting to be chosen to pilot the ship down.

One of the others spoke first, shattering the silence a few seconds later. It was Terrick.

"Respectfully speaking sir, but why is the Admiral flying us in? Isn't Sarno or John a better choice? I mean, the GTVA put him as an Admiral because he's too old to fly, for heaven's sake!"

Gibson simply gave Terrick a glare and was about to reply when a voice from the very rear interrupted them.

"If it was true that they promoted people to Admiral just for their age, Mr. Terrick, then we'd also be seeing a lot more Neo-Terran Fronts." Everyone turned around in surprise to look at who had just spoken. Upon seeing who it was however, all of them quickly saluted as Bosch stepped through the doorway. How long had he been standing there without anybody noticing? Standing and watching as his men being briefed on the activity they would follow on the ring below? Gibson simply had no idea, and instead followed the rest, saluting in respect to the old man.

Under normal circumstances, Bosch's frame wasn't very large, and nor was he well-muscled either. The past year working behind a desk and away from active service had reduced his body to a mere shadow of what it used to be during his prime years. Under the Zero-G environment they had endured over the past few days, Bosch's condition had worsened even more, and the signs were clearly showing now. The old man had been capable of moving about easily in the Zero G conditions, but now his walk was reduced into a slow stagger, barely being able to move the suit that enveloped his entire body. To him it must have felt like walking with lead weights, and the expression on his face as he moved from one corner to the other simple proved it.

He continued to speak, his voice low and somewhat weak from the strain of walking around. He obviously was tired and from the looks of it, about ready to collapse.

"Stand easy men." Bosch nodded at those gathered after saluting back. Once everyone's arms had dropped, he nodded again and continued to speak.

"I understand your concerns Terrick. I am indeed an old man, as well as somewhat unfit from my earlier days, but I've also got a lot of experience. Tell me, have you ever crash-landed any spacecraft into a planet before?"

He looked at all the men gathered before continuing. "Have any of you done the same, for that matter?"

Everyone simply shook their heads except for Gibson. He was the only other person here with as much flight experience - if not more - than Bosch himself, but he had almost no knowledge of the Shivan controls or the ship itself - something which only Bosch knew in this case.

"Point taken Sir, my apologies." Sarno said, somewhat embarrassed.

Bosch frowned for a second. His tone became somewhat agitated. "What are you apologizing for pilot? You had a valid point in this case and you expressed it. In fact - "Bosch paused looking first at Sarno and then at John. Then he sighed before continuing. "Now that you mention it, there is a good chance I might just black out during the trip itself. I want both of you stationed inside the cockpit area itself. It's rather large, so space shouldn't be an issue. If anything happens to me, you'll have to take over the flight. Understood?"

Sarno's features turned to that one in surprise. Internally, Gibson applauded Bosch. This was one of the reasons he had managed to hold the NTF as long as he did. If Bosch was good at one thing, it was handling the men under his charge.

At least now the main issue seemed to be dealt and over with. Bosch nodded to the men and continued.

"You've all heard the plans, and you've all heard the risks. I've talked to the Shivans and we'll be making our attempt after 24 hours. I suggest everybody get some rest before we go. The food container has been unlocked, so all the food is available for consumption. I expect each and every one of you to fill yourselves and enjoy the food."

Bosch paused. His facial features turned morose as he looked down before continuing. "24 Hours from now, we'll all either be dead or on the surface. In either case we'll need all the energy we can get. That is all, dismissed."

With that, Bosch moved towards his room on the other side of the group. The crew parted to give him way as he left. Not one person spoke a word as he walked through and went to his room. Once the door closed, Gibson looked back to those gathered. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, but finally Sargo spoke up, shattering it.

"Well, that's about it. Who's up for some proper food?"

A general murmur of agreement rose up from the others as they dispersed for lunch. Gibson sighed. This was going to be one of the longest 24 hours of his life.


	4. Chapter 3: Transit to Hell

**Chapter 3**

_**Transit to Hell**_

_This is the final audio log of Admiral Aken Bosch, Ex-leader of the Neo Terran Front._

_Unfortunately, due to a lack of any additional tapes onboard the Shivan transport, or in our supply for that matter, this will be my final entry into my logs till we are able to either acquire more tapes or another recorder of some sorts._

_As I speak, my crew is resting and preparing for what may just be the hardest experience in their lives. The Shivans departed the transport several hours ago, leaving us as the only people onboard. It is quite apparent that they do not wish to come down to the ring with us. Whether it is the gravity that is driving them away, or something on the ring itself, I don't know. What I do know is that they were quick to change the entire layout of this Azreal's cockpit, which is something of a surprise considering the change of biology it has to encompass._

_At the least however, they are supremely competent shipbuilders. It took less than 8 hours to change the entire layout of the cockpit from one that accepted a neural interface, to one that accepted all kinds of analogue input, not to mention hook up what few display screens we have to show gauges and output. _

_As much of a blessing as it seems, I am also very hesitant about the entire matter. The Shivans have definitely been hospitable to us….perhaps a little too hospitable for that matter. _

_It may seem that I'm being over-cautious over the entire thing, especially when I should be celebrating our achievement here, as the initial objectives I started with have all but been achieved. The Neo Terra Front was exactly that: nothing but a Front to put up against the GTVA as I scavenged about the wrecks of the ancients, looking for clues that would eventually bring me here and to the Shivans. The pilots and soldiers of the NTF were mere cattle, driven by their hatred and fears of the Vasudans. At the time, it was all too simple to just use it to my advantage and meet my immediate needs. But then it grew and took over, and I was powerless to stop it. _

_But I will not argue with Human memory, or whatever verdict history gives on my role in the human race. My role was played to the bloody end, and it is something that I cannot deny, even if it means a legacy forever crowned with infamy. _

_Little do the fools know, my actions were planned not by my hatred of the Vasudans, but for my love of humanity. My only objective was to end the tragic decades of hate and misunderstandings between our species and the Shivan's, and probably to bring some hope to the future of mankind. I succeeded in all the tasks I set out to do, and I should be filled with joy. _

_Yet upon reflection, I must ask myself, have I really succeeded? _

_Although contact has been made with the Shivans, they have mentioned little to me of why they attacked us or the reason for the First and Second Great Wars. Whenever I ask this question, the Shivan hive mind is simply evasive and cryptic in its replies. From what I am able to grasp, the Shivans were definitely waiting for us to come about, and their attacks were deliberate. Only the reason of why remains beyond my grasp now. What could motivate such a race to be so hostile to anything it encounters, yet be so hospitable to us? _

_They still refuse to answer the question of why did they spare us and not the ancients. They also continue to insist that a problem exists, one that is larger than the Ancients, Humans and Vasudans combined, possibly extending past this universe as well. But they have yet to tell me, what is this problem exactly? _

_The only thing that they have told me is that all will be explained here, at this ring and that the truth will be revealed when we begin our journey. But what is this journey they speak of? _

_What wild reason lies behind this mysterious fog the Shivans have clouded themselves in? Perhaps it is connected to the number of ships gathered here, all standing in unison to watch our odyssey to the Ring below us. They have to be waiting for something to happen, something directly related to us, this ring and the installation that hangs in the midst of it all. _

_Either way, from the looks of it our answers won't be ready for another several hours yet. It is my hope that this ring will prove to be the final piece of the puzzle, leading to the answers for all my questions. But it may just end up bringing up a larger problem and more questions. Either way, we will never know till we can land on the ring._

_Yet…I cannot help but think. Perhaps in my earlier logs I was right; I may just end up being a fool here, having lead my people into this vast desert, only to die. Although I came here looking for answers to save humanity, I may just end up leaving it with questions that only serve to doom it._

_End log._

Admiral Aken Bosch looked at the ragged display panels and control levers in front of him. While he had to give the Shivans credit for being efficient and capable, he'd have to definitely minus points for their cleanliness and organization of the entire thing. It would be a monumental task piloting this craft down, especially since it wasn't exactly meant for planetary travel.

He started in the most logical place: trying to determine whether this thing was capable of basic flight or not. The Azreal class transport was triangular in it's hull shape, ending in a short narrow neck that led to the cockpit at the very front. The neck itself was significantly thick, as it supported to beams that held all the cargo underneath the main belly. A small skid was located here, to facilitate landings inside of larger vessels. Two long, sharp arms protruded from either side of the craft, ending in points that also served in securing it inside of larger vessels. The Shivans had configured the edges to also hold skids to allow for a landing in the snow-filled canyon that was their target.

Definitely not flyable Bosch thought to himself. But then, even a brick like the Ursa could fly if given powerful enough engines. And engines were what Transports like this were all about.

Probably flying in that case. He thought to himself. He placed a hand onto the rough metallic 'seat' that he would be sitting on throughout the journey down. It couldn't be called a seat, as it was mostly a small sheet of metal placed on top of another slab of metal, with seat belts welded into it to hold him down. Fortunately, one of his crew members had had the foresight to put a small cushion onto the slab itself, allowing some comfort at least.

Bosch sighed. This was going to be tough, very tough indeed.

His thoughts were interrupted as a voice rang out from behind him, towards the entrance of the cockpit. Turning around, Bosch looked on as Gibson walked through the entryway from the rear cargo hold. The cockpit area was not separate as in most Terran craft he had been on. It was triangular in shape, with a wide entryway that led directly into a cargo hold as well as an exit (which had now been converted to an airlock). It also led to the main engines. A clear and unblocked corridor all the way, Bosch wasn't too surprised, hardly expecting the Shivans to have the need or want for doors or the like. Gibson nodded at Bosch before saluting.

"All ready at the rear sir. Sarno and John are on the way." He said, glancing back as everyone secured themselves against the wall.

Bosch nodded, replying. "Excellent. Secure yourself as well. I'll get us started in a few minutes."

Gibson nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't turn back immediately. Instead he took a step closer and leaned towards Bosch, the helmet of his environmental suit almost making contact with Bosch's. Gibson's concern could be seen clearly over his face when he asked "You sure you can handle this sir? The G-forces that we'll be experiencing on the way down-"

Bosch cut him off before he could finish. His features turned to that of slight anger and irritation. Although Bosch felt that the concern was genuine, it was getting a little tiring. "Gibson, if you don't get back into that cargo hold and secure yourself, I'll make sure to crash this ship on purpose and kill us all. Stop worrying, get to the back, and be more concerned about whether you'll live through all this."

Gibson just stared at him blankly for a moment before regaining his sense and nodding. He flashed a smile before saying "Yes sir!" and then moved off towards the back. On the way out, he passed by Sarno and John, both of whom had finally finished suiting up and were ready.

They came to a halt in front of Bosch and saluted. Bosch sighed and saluted back. He was starting to get a little irritated with it, especially since now the NTF was gone, and they were just about the only ones left. Still, he'd settle this issue later. For the moment their were more important things to do.

"Are you ready?" he asked, looking from Sarno to John. In reply, both men only nodded.

"Excellent. Get ready, we're about to go down." Bosch turned around and moved towards his seat. Sarno and John didn't reply, and instead just started to strap themselves to the harness, and then activating the Harness's magnetic locks, securing themselves to the wall.

Bosch in turn, secured himself to the chair. He pulled the harness over his chest and abdomen, making sure that he was strapped in tight. Once he thought he was ready, Bosch looked up at the control panel, contemplating the daunting task ahead. Moving his hands across the panel, he adjusted a final few displays to show altitude, relative speed and other data he would need. Bosch also set the auto recorder/transmitter array to work, which would transmit all the data to the Shivans. If the wreck turned out to be unusable or they were unable to get it working well enough to get off the ground, the Shivans would try to land another one in, learning from the mistakes that Bosch and his crew made and compensating for it.

Although getting onto the ground was tough, getting off wasn't a problem as long as they could get off the ground - simply going into subspace would mean that they would instantly in space once again, even though it was quite risky, to say the least.

Looking at the console, he sighed. Without a word, he placed a hand on the central control stick, which controlled the Yaw as well as the pitch of the craft. As per norm, the pitch controls were through the foot pedals, while engine control was via a lever to his right. Using the other hand, he manipulated a few of the controls, setting off the subspace engine to the pre-defined co-ordinates. Looking ahead, Bosch watched on as the view changed in front of the transport. The blue-green structure of green disappeared behind a bright, blue-white hole that appeared out of nowhere right in front of the transport.

Pulling up on the throttle lever, Bosch accelerated the transport forwards into subspace at maximum velocity, causing the G forces to push him back into the seat and cause grunts of discomfort from the people behind him. Yet Bosch knew, this was nothing compared to what was going to come.

Subspace greeted them willingly, its border encompassing the entire transport and pulling it in. To some, it was nauseating, but to Bosch, it was a sight beyond words. As the transport pushed through, the light of subspace washed all over him and the cockpit. He could only watch in amazement as the hole he just went through turned into the blue and white tunnel they all knew and were familiar with. His heart started to rush at the sight, reveling in the mystery and wonders of subspace that had amazed him ever since he first saw it over 30 years ago. Despite having been in and out of subspace over a thousand times, each entry was a new experience for him, vibrantly different from the last. This was no exception. Glancing to the screen on his right, Bosch saw that they had 10 seconds before exit.

He glanced back and yelled, alerting the rest of the crew. "Ten seconds to exit! Brace yourselves!"

Bracing himself, Bosch watched as the seconds ticked by on the countdown meter. 5 Seconds...4...3...

At about two seconds to go, the wall of subspace in front of him was pierced by a small hole forming up. Through it, Bosch couldn't see much, but as it began to grew, he could make out more. One second to go. The transport was almost at the hole now and was starting to shudder as the atmosphere near the exit point started to rush into the vacuum of subspace.

From the outside, the only thing people would have been able to see would be a swirling blue and white whirlpool, slowly growing in size and sucking in everything around it. Nothing was spared, birds, debris, the upper atmosphere - it all went in, betraying the force of gravity that had held it towards the ring for so long. Around a second later, the whirlpool stopped growing, seemingly reaching it's maximum size. It spat out a triangular-shaped transport, with spikes on either side before collapsing on itself and closing completely, nearly clipping the transport in the process. If one were to look upwards at this point, they would notice that the closest portion of the ring was actually above them at this point, just as planned...well, almost as planned at least.

Time seemed to slow down for Bosch as the transport exited subspace. The transport smoothly flew past the exit point - albiet a bit slowly due to the air resistance - and barely made it out before the hole closed up behind them. Time still moved slowly for Bosch as he looked up and outwards to the ring. He simply stared in awe and wonder at the scene above him, a spectacular image of green hills and valleys, surronded by small lakes and river streams. The features of the landscape below were tiny, almost as if Bosch could reach out and grab it in the palm of his hand.

Bosch contemplated the scene for a second, was this how the first astronauts felt when they looked down on the Earth for the first time? Or the first airplane pilots for that matter? Even though he had seen these thousands of time before on display screens all over the place, as well as through the windows of many transports, the entire thing was still thrilling, aweing him beyond words.

Then two things hit Bosch, interrupting his thoughts and amazement at the whole scene. The first was the distinct feeling that something was wrong with the entire scene. Trying to think as hard as he could, Bosch finally realized what the problem was. The entire scene was wrong! Although the co-ordinates were correct, by this time he should have been seeing the strange device in the centre of the ring above him, not the ring itself! Either they were at the wrong co-ordinates, or subspace had somehow screwed up leaving them ups-

He never got to finish the thought as the split second passed and time caught up with them...along with gravity too. Had he eaten in the past few hours, he would have probably thrown up the meal due to the disorientation and G forces they were feeling as the transport fell, top first, towards the ground at break-neck speed. The blood started to rush to his face as Bosch struggled to fight against the massive G forces pinning him to the seat, while at the same time trying to keep himself secure against the force of gravity that was trying to pry him out of it and into the window. They were upside down and crashing fast. From behind him, Bosch could hear loud shouts of surprise and pain as the men struggled to adjust to the G forces as well.

Think Bosch, think damnit! He thought to himself, trying to catch himself and figure out what to do. First things first: he was going to have to fix the orientation of the craft. Preparing himself, he pushed the right pedal, activating the thrusters on the left side of the craft and pushing the entire transport into an agonizingly slow barrel roll. The air resistance was significant and slowing them down throughout the roll. What should have been an affair of only a second or two rolled on to become 10 seconds, but finally Bosch could breathe a little easy when they were right side up.

Then the transport's rattling became even worse as it started to reach thicker atmosphere, shaking everyone including himself and creating a massively loud roar all over the transport. Add to that the multitude of the alerts and alarms coming from the panel in front of him and Bosch could barely hear himself think. Looking over the instruments, Bosch became alarmed at the rate of descent. They were going too fast! Within two minutes the transport would crash to the ground, and at this speed survival was not possible at all. Reaching to his right, Bosch pushed the throttle lever, increasing power to the rear engines, as well as those maneuvering thrusters on the bottom. He watched as the forward speed started to pick up a bit and the rate of fall decrease a bit, but it still wasn't enough.

The transport started to rattle further as the atmospheric resistance increased. The timer started to slow down a bit, even backtracking a little. There was little Bosch could do to slow it down at this point. Instead, he looked ahead in an attempt to find the canyon they were going to land in. Looking through the window, Bosch spotted the canyon up ahead, two kilometers out and about 700 meters below them. It wasn't much, especially considering that the ring wasn't that large either. They were currently traveling at 20 m/s forwards, and 10 m/s downwards. The thrusters were barely keeping the acceleration of gravity from moving it towards the ring faster.

Bosch switched one of the panels on his left to an external camera underneath the nose. The monitor flickered several times, displaying only static. Bosch cursed and hit the monitor on the side, making it flicker even more but then display an image after a few seconds. The view wasn't much, as most of the underside was on fire (thank god for the Shivan armor!) and blocking the view, but Bosch was able to make out large forests and trees directly below, as well as a large river that was running in their direction.

Bosch glanced at the other controls. The increase in power to the engines has generally left them for the better, and they now had a controlled rate of descent. But Bosch was going to have to slow down the ship somehow; otherwise they wouldn't survive the landing. The problem with slowing down the transport was that if he did, the thing would drop like a brick into the ground.

Decisions, decisions Bosch thought to himself.

Then the transport jerked, triggering half a dozen alarms and several shouts from the rear. They must have hit an air pocket! The transport's controls went haywire as Bosch fought to keep it steady and on-course. However, the fight just became harder with each meter they went down.

Finally, the objective came into proper sight. On the other side of a vast lake stood a massive wall, almost half a kilometer high and posing an impressive sight. The waves lashed up against the cliff faces in a constant stream, eroding away the wall slowly and steadily as it must have been doing for centuries - maybe even millennia.

But it was in between these cliffs that Bosch was most concerned about. About 40 or 50 meters above the waters, the cliff walls parted to give a narrow entrance into a canyon. From the entrance a natural waterfall had been formed, where the water cascaded down into the lake below. This was where Bosch was headed. The entrance was over 50 meters wide, meaning that they shouldn't have too much problem entering it. Although the immediate vicinity was filled by water, further up the river diverted elsewhere and the rest of the canyon was filled with snow.

Bosch pushed the engines a bit harder, trying to get the maximum amount of speed and reducing the downwards descent. They were over the beginning of the lake now and crashing into it at this speed would be like crashing into cement. The shaking grew even more, and it felt like the transport was trying to rattle Bosch's to death. He had to be careful to hit the right controls, and not allow the shaking to make him miss it and hit the wrong one.

Over the next few seconds, Bosch lowered the transport enough to meet the height of the canyon entrance. At this time, they were directly over the water. The shockwave of the transport's movement through the air affected the water below as well, and anyone could see the clear trail as it blazed past.

Then they entered the canyon. The walls stretched up on either side of Bosch's window, leaving only the view of the ring above him, and the rest of the canyon below him. It was a straight run all the way through except for one turn, but what seemed like several obstacles in the way. From what they could see in the magnification of the area, a small clearing of snow should be available up ahead, towards the end of the canyon. But right now, although the weather was clearly quite frigid below them, there was no snow just yet. It should be after the large turn Bosch was going to have to navigate. Although how he was going to do that while fighting the transports inertia and speed was going to be a tough one.

Well, he had to figure it out soon. Bosch could see the turn coming up ahead. Cursing, he reduced the forward speed a bit, reducing engine power to the rear and putting whatever he could to the starboard and port thrusters. It was less than 400 meters out now, and at their speed, they would hit it within a minute. Bosch first banked the craft to the right a bit, coming up close to the canyon wall - but yet not close enough to risk hitting it. He looked at the corner of the turn, where a large waterfall raged from the top of the canyon wall, splashing down to a small pond below, and then to the river that in turn led to the lake. The waterfall shouldn't be a problem, as he was going to avoid it altogether, but Bosch kept a vary eye on it anyway.

As the transport slowed down, it also started to loose it's battle against gravity, descending slowly towards the ground. But Bosch was ready for this and braced himself. As the transport approached the turn, Bosch looked around the corner of the left side, and once he had a clear view of something other than the wall, he hit the controls for the thrusters.

Immediately, the transport reacted, firing all starboard thrusters and shutting off the port engines altogether. This caused the transport to go into a gut-churning spin to the left, even though it was still moving towards the far wall. Once everything was aligned, Bosch transferred all power back to the main engines, pushing the craft forwards and trying to reduce the slide altogether. It worked….almost.

Although the transport managed to clear the canyon wall for the most part, but the right arm scraped by the wall for a second. Although it didn't cause much damage to show up on Bosch's control panel, anyone on the outside would have clearly been able to see the skid on the right arm was no longer there.

Bosch saw the field up ahead. It was crystal clear, just before a lake of ice and a small hill, near the end of the canyon. He thought he could make out something at the end of the canyon, but couldn't be sure as everything was covered in fog after the field.

Bosch steered the transport down a bit, as an ice bridge arced over the small hill. It would be a tight fit, but they had little choice. Going above the bridge would make it an even harder landing as they would not be able to slow down as much.

The transport shuddered and rocked as it sped through the small gap, barely missing the stalactites hanging down from the bridge. The heat from the engines melted the stalactites as they moved through, causing quite a number to collapse onto the hill. This caused a small avalanche on the hill, forcing the snow down onto the ice lake which the transport was barely 50 meters above.

The landing area was almost upon them. Bosch had already reduced their altitude significantly, and was on approach. Engine power was reduced to almost zero, their rate of descent was reasonable and the speed wasn't too high either. Just 30 seconds to touchdown now, and things were looking good. The area ahead was clear, only a white field of snow with a bunch of trees towards the end. Nothing Bosch did now could change the outcome, so he switched off the engines, putting them to idle, hung on and prayed for the best.

The transport made its approach to the field much like a fighter did to a runway. Although somewhat fast, the lack of any engine power pushing it meant that it was gliding through on sheer inertia alone. Air resistance and turbulence would steal this inertia and slow it down just enough to make it a soft landing.

The Shivan transport continued its glide down to the ground. It was at 20 meters now, slowly dropping to 15, then 10. The descent rate then was the slowest, with the transport going down a meter each second.

Upon looking at it on the ground, the red and black transport stood out like a sore thumb, it's glowing red hull casting an unnatural illumination a large portion of the snow, which was covered in shadow from the canyon walls.

At zero seconds, the transport should have touched the ground rear skids first, with the nose following down. It would have been an extremely bumpy ride after that as the transport rode in the snow till it came to a complete stop, the forward thrusters providing the brakes in this case.

But that was the ideal plan. As reality went, the transport touched down normally, with both arms touching the snow as planned. But only the left arm actually stayed on top of the snow. The right arm, lacking a skid, sank into the snow like a hot knife through butter. This caused the transport to lean heavily to the right as it sped through the snow. As the arm sunk deeper, it hit a rock underneath the snow, stopping it dead in its tracks. Unfortunately, inertia demanded that the main body of the transport should go ahead, with or without inertia. The result was the arm breaking off almost totally from the body, leaving behind a stump and only air to hold up the transport.

Gravity took over, causing the transport to fall onto its right side. As it was still moving through the snow, the rear end went up as the nose plowed into the ground, going end-over-end one, then twice. It was thrown into a third roll as the right engine, having taken slight damage from the scrape earlier, exploded outwards and pushing the transports forwards. It came to a stop at the end of the third roll, just nearby the trees that were supposed to be the end of the target.

The right engine was on fire, but this was fading as the bitter cold of the environment extinguished it. The rest of the transport was buried in the snow, leaving little exposed to the air outside. The red luminescence of the hull was still there, but it slowly started to fade out till, finally, it was snuffed out completely. The only thing that suggested a transport had come here was the portion of the hull sticking out along with the right engine, and the immense trail it had left coming there. But even this wasn't permanent, as the trail was blown over by the strong wind, removing all traces of existence and deafening everything with its loud howl as it traveled through the canyon.


	5. Interlude 1

_**INTERLUDE**_

_My creators were a proud people. And always the strongest._

_For thousands of years, their empire expanded. For so long, they always imagined themselves alone in the universe, for so long, they never encountered other advanced life._

_Then they discovered subspace. It gave them the galaxy, it gave them the universe. They soon encountered other life and other civilizations. Then they subdued it or crushed it. None were a match for them, and with subspace, their empire would surely know no boundaries._

_For so long, they knew no others that could defeat them...but this illusion was soon shattered. When the first few ancients stumbled upon this system, initially they ignored it. But when they looked closer, they found this ancient structure. Hanging abandoned in space above this planet, they did not know what to make of it. Its creators were stronger than any they had encountered, yet strangely they had disappeared, leaving only this lonely piece of technology as a legacy of their civilization and might. _

_At first, the few who found the creation kept its discovery only to themselves. They left it alone for a while, and then came back with others. Soon they built the ring around the creation to study it and find what secrets lurked within its dark walls. _

_And soon after, they created me. They said I was the pride of their civilization. No other was more advanced or more complex. No other could do what they wanted me to do. I was to explore the creation and unlock the mysteries that were buried deep inside it. _

_Never once did they think of the consequences of such actions, such trespassing. They only thought that surely, with such technology, their empire would soon become unstoppable. And so I went on, into the abyss, unknowing of the horrors that hid in its darkness._


	6. Chapter 4: Counting the Losses

**CHAPTER 4**

_**Counting the Losses**_

The blackness of unconsciousness started to lift slowly as Bosch gave a loud groan and started to open his eyes. He had no recollection of what happened just now, except for a blinding flash of pain and then the blissful darkness that came with blacking out from the pain.

He was still in darkness when the first voice spoke up, somewhere from his left. It was a shout and set off loud bell ringing in his right ear.

"Hey! He's coming to! Someone get the med-kit here, stat!"

Bosch couldn't make out whom the voice belonged to, his memory was too jumbled for that right now. He tried opening his eyes, but closed them immediately after, as the light above him was too bright. It was too bright even though his eyes were closed, instinctively forcing him to bring his right hand up. Or at least…_try _to bring it up. But when he tried to move his hand, the only response he got was shooting pain right through his arm, all the way up to the shoulder, forcing yet another groan out of him.

"What? All right, we're coming. Keep him still! Don't let him move about or he'll simply hurt that arm more!"

Another voice ran out from elsewhere in the room. Bosch tried raising his other arm, and succeeded a bit before a hand came down and restricted the arm's movement, forcing it back down. The first voice spoke again, this time right next to Bosch.

"Sir, I don't think you want to do that, trust me. John, lower that field light there! It's too damn bright!"

A much more different voice - obviously belonging to John in this case - answered back from across the room. His voice was soft, as if behind some object or the other, which was odd since he didn't remember their being anything at the back of the bay….

"Roger, turning down the lights."

About a second later, the light dimmed enough to allow Bosch to stop squinting and then dimmed further to allow him to open up his eyes a bit more. Looking up, he saw Gibson waving at somebody to his right, and holding something else in his left hand. Upon closer examination, Bosch could see it was a hypodermic needle, used to inject drugs and other medicines directly into the bloodstream.

Gibson primed the needle and then looked down at Bosch. He could only look on as Gibson spoke "Don't worry Sir, it's going to be all right." Then he jabbed Bosch's left arm with the needle and injected the contents of the needle directly into his bloodstream. A jolt of pain went up his left side, and his vision slowly started to fade out, throwing Bosch back into the blissful darkness that was unconsciousness.

When he awoke again, the light was not as bright as it was before. In fact, it was not there at all, allowing Bosch to open his eyes almost immediately. He looked up at the ceiling, from which the field light hung, swinging about slowly from side to side.

His ears were still ringing, and he could barely hear a thing. A massive headache wasn't exactly helping either. Instinctively, he tried to bring his right arm up to his head. His attempt failed miserably as a jolt of pain went up the arm, eliciting a groan from Bosch.

Remembering what had happened earlier; Bosch learnt his lesson and decided to take a bit more care when moving his head from left to right. Cautiously, he turned to the left, trying to turn as far as he could before it started hurting. He managed to get it to go to as much as it should, but it felt a bit stiff and difficult. However, there appeared to be no major damage. Consequently, he managed to get a partial view into the cockpit, not mention a good idea on where exactly he was in all of the transport.

But what stuck out at him was the situation of the cockpit. The entire windscreen and front had been smashed in and covered with white snow. The control panel was now only a little over a foot away from the back of the seat where he had been sitting. The right side of the panel was significantly closer, which would explain the pain in his right arm. It must have been crushed by the panel, or at least partially broken during the crash. Quite a bit of the left side of the cockpit was not visible, as it was buried in the snow, but Bosch could make out part of one of the metallic harnesses that he had secured Sarno and John onto the wall. As he studied it, he was a bit shocked to see some blood on the harness. Whoever had been strapped there had been obviously been injured quite badly, which meant he was probably to his right side.

Turning his neck back, Bosch tried the other side. Slowly, the rest of the transport came into view, and it was a very different one. The long corridor that had been clear before was now littered with debris. Along the walls, Bosch could see the empty harnesses where the rest of his crew had strapped themselves in on the way down. Where had they gone? Had they all managed to make it? He certainly hoped they had.

Then his gaze fell onto one of the corners next to the second exit leading to the engine section, directly opposite from the small hole that led down to the cargo bay. In the corner were two bodies, wrapped and covered in white sheets. Bosch stared at both the bodies for a second, unable to comprehend what he was looking at. Then he simply looked back up and gave out a sigh, closing his eyes.

By this time the ringing in his ears had mostly died down. Perhaps it was time to try and get up. Moving his left arm cautiously, he was capable of moving it significantly without much problem. The tried the same with his legs, starting with the left first, both appeared to be uninjured.

_Good….I'll be needing both of them._ he thought to himself. This was going to be painful, to say the least. Grunting, Bosch tensed his back, and then using his left arm and leg, managed to lift himself off the platform and onto his back. His right arm exploded in pain, forcing his features into a grimace and nearly causing him to scream out in agony. But Bosch controlled himself; he couldn't cave in to the pain, not here, not now.

When he was finally up, he looked down at his right arm. From what he could see, his arm was in a complete plaster cast, making it rather heavy to hold up. The cast was supported by a cloth wrapped around his arm and neck. It was obvious that the advanced medical tools he was normally used to weren't available, hence forcing them to resort to this. But at least it worked, so Bosch could complain little.

Bosch swung his legs off the platform, letting his feet dangle a few inches off the ground. He sat at the platform for a few minutes, trying to hear if anyone else was there. No sounds were present, except for a loud howling from the rear of the engine. Where had everyone else gone? Why had he been left alone here?

Deciding that sitting around would not be very productive, Bosch got off the platform, grunting in pain as his right arm moved a bit as he did so. Unfortunately, he nearly fell down as his legs - unused to the gravity thus far - almost crumpled under the weight of his body. Only the fact that he was using his left arm to help support his body prevented him from falling down. The weight of the sling drew heavily on his neck, forcing him to hunch a bit.

_Perhaps walking around would not be such a good idea_ Bosch thought to himself. He was in no condition to leave the transport, or walk anywhere for that matter. Instead, he decided to climb back onto the platform and sit down. The others probably went out for food or something else, so instead he would have to sit here and wait.

Bosch looked around for a stash or some supplies of some sort first. He was thirsty and hungry, not to mention would need something to keep himself busy with. Finally, he found a small bag near the base of the platform. He first jumped up onto the platform as best as he could, and then bent down and grabbed the bag, lifting it up to the top platform, he opened it, rummaging through.

Inside, he found a few medical supplies, a small canister holding some water. There was no food inside, but Bosch also found a small notebook that was somewhat damaged, but still intact. Inside the book was a small pen, along with notes on the first few pages. It appeared to be in Sargo's handwriting, but the notes themselves were dated quite old, and hence useless in this situation.

Deciding the claim the book as his own, Bosch carefully and neatly removed the first few pages (Sargo may want it back) and then kept it aside in a neat pile next to him. Placing the now-open book in his lap, Bosch carefully positioned the pen in his left hand and attempted to write. Although the handwriting was bad, it was still legible enough for Bosch to be able to read.

And so he began to write.

_This is the written log of Admiral Aken Bosch, ex-leader of the Neo Terran Front._

_Due to a lack of tape recorders or other such audio recording equipment, I have been forced into using commandeering this old notebook - it was probably Sargo's previously - for the use of my logs and notes. From what I can see, the current situation appears to be quite bad from the crash. I still don't know how we managed to crash, as everything seemed to be going all right till the moment we touched down. After that, I remember nothing. _

_The crash itself was pretty severe, upon examining of the cockpit area and what remains of my seat; I realize that having a broken arm is actually a blessing, compared to the alternative. This is the closest I've come to death in years, the last time being my encounter with the GTI and the Hades so many decades ago._

_Unfortunately, as I have just found out, it seems two others of my crew were not as lucky. The only question remains is _which _two members of my crew lie underneath the white cloth. Unfortunately, it is an answer I am unable to easily discern. Judging from the blood stain that is present in one of the harnesses in the cockpit, one of the bodies could be Sarno's or John's. I will have to wait for the others to confirm who exactly it is first, before I try making any more judgment on the matter…._

_But still…it disturbs me to see death at such closeness. As a pilot in my days of the GTA and then as the Supreme Commander of the NTF, I have the deaths of Millions of individuals, both Terran and Vasudan on my hands, but these deaths have always remained at a distance. As a fighter pilot, I never actually saw my enemy and each time I destroyed one of their fighters, I never once stopped to think, never once paused to consider _who_ the enemy actually was. It is something that I have avoided all my life, and something I put aside so that I could continue with this bold crusade. But now, two people with whom I have survived this journey have died. What will their families think of back home? That they died for a good cause? Or merely at the hands of an evil dictator, much akin to the long-dead fuehrer himself? _

_I was prepared for the verdict history placed upon me, but now I question myself, did I prepare myself for the verdict history would place on those whom are close to me?_

_To achieve my goal of ensuring the survival of humanity, I had to see the death of millions, all ordered at my hands. But now, upon recollection, does it seem worth it? Everyday during that period, I reassured myself that it was, that saving the lives of billions would require the sacrifice of a few million. _

_Now that the deed has been done, there is little I can do but to pray that this fool's crusade is indeed justified. As I re-assured myself so long ago, I must re-assure myself now. I have no choice but to play this role to the bitter end, no matter what ending that may be. Those who decided to come with me made their decision. While history may decide their verdicts, at the very least, I know it is untrue, I know what their sacrifices meant. _

_I cannot stop here, not now, not ever, especially when I am so close to unlocking the mystery behind the Shivans, and what may just be a new hope for the human race. _

_End log._


	7. Interlude 2

_**INTERLUDE**_

_When they first met the Great Destroyers, my creators could not care less. They were like the others the creators encountered, strange, hideous and fighting. Like the others, my creators moved to crush and subdue them. _

_But these were not like the others...for they would not die. My creators realized that they were outnumbered and outclassed in this case, and chose to retreat. But their empire was vast and ever-present. They could forego one system, so they left it to the destroyers and went elsewhere._

_But the Destroyers followed. They chased them, hunted them till they found out where the creators lived. For a long time, they pondered, as I did, why did they chase us? It was not for resources or for territory. Was their pride, sin? _

_My creators pondered these questions, but at the same time saw me as a last hope of sorts. They said I must look farther into the abyss and needed to look behind the dark shroud that covered its inner demons and secrets. I was their only hope - the technology in this structure would be the key to defeating this nemesis...this infestation that continued to threaten them. What I had found out so far had helped the creators somewhat, but now they asked for more. They asked for more useful information, for tools and weapons to fight the destroyers. They were desperate, looking for any means of salvation for their plight._

_And so I obeyed, like an ignorant youngster eagerly wishing to fulfill his elder's commands. I went deeper into the abyss, unaware and uncaring of what lived beyond, my only one care being to search for a key, a clue to change what seemed like an inescapable destiny for my creators. But as I would soon discover, my prior trespassing had already attracted the attention of something that lay in the darkness of the abyss..._


	8. Chapter 5: A New Direction

**CHAPTER 5**

_**A New Direction**_

Bosch was lying down on the small platform, trying to conserve his strength as best as possible. He knew once the others arrived, he would have a lot of work to do, which meant he was going to need to be at his peak condition for it.

Two hours had already passed since he gave up writing his log. Bosch couldn't help but wonder where everyone was, or what they were doing for that matter.

_Most probably carrying out the plan that had been created earlier._ He couldn't help but think to himself. Upon recollection, Bosch realized that he _did_ know where they were. He doubted they would just stay in one place and do nothing. More than likely they were carrying out the original plan to go and scout for food and resources to fix the transport, even though they would be now doing it with three less men...

Before he could think any further on the matter however, Bosch's thoughts were interrupted by a loud _clank_ sound coming from the engine room to his right. It was slightly muffled, but it was also very loud.

Then it came again, this time followed by the high-pitched screech that came with something metallic and heavy being dragged along the floor. The previously low howl of wind outside increased in intensity, creating a deafening echo in the rest of the transport and bringing with it a chill unlike anything he had experience before. The bitter cold touched his skin - exposed with an environment suit to protect him, there was little he could do to stop it.

Over the loud din, Bosch could barely make out a few voices shouting at each other as they came into the transport. This was shortly followed by another screech as the heavy metal object was once again pushed into place, cutting off the loud howl and bringing the ringing sound back into Bosch's ears. The cold went away as well, although not as completely as he would have hoped.

Bosch decided to get up and face whoever was coming in. Leaning on his left arm and using whatever strength he had, Bosch got himself up carefully, making sure not to cause any strain or problem to the broken right arm. He then swung his legs out to the right and sat up. He looked at the engine room and waited for whomever it was to come walking past the large pipes that blocked most of his view of the section.

The voices grew louder but were still somewhat muffled by the pipes in front of them, but Bosch was still unable to make out what they were talking about, hearing only pieces of the conversation.

Then as they came closer, the voices became a bit clearer. He still couldn't figure out who it was, but at least he could understand what they were saying. From what he could tell, they were two of them, and both were arguing with each other quite loudly.

"I know that, but our time was up! If he hadn't returned back then, we would have both frozen to death, not to mention the others would have gotten worried!"

One of voices spoke; obviously in response to something Bosch had not been able to make out earlier. A different voice spoke up in response to this, the tone one that of impatience and irritation.

"The others aren't even here yet! We're the first ones here damn it! It would taken less than three minutes to simply go up to the panel, opened the door and then taken a peek inside!"

"And what if a full, goddamn army was behind those doors, waiting to blow us to kingdom come simply because we didn't knock?"

The first voice retorted. Bosch couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. Had they discovered something? They still hadn't rounded the corner yet, meaning they were probably standing somewhere behind the pipes and arguing with each other. This assumption was backed up by the fact that he could no longer hear their footsteps either.

"You don't know that! If there was an army, they would have gotten us long before we even _went_ up to the top of the damn thing!"

"I may not know whether it's true, but neither do you! There is a good chance it's booby-trapped, so I'd rather have the others come in with us in case something went wrong."

The second voice sighed a bit, conceding defeat on the matter.

"Fine then, but we better send the next team down ASAP. If that thing's got potential as shelter, we'll need to move in quick."

The first voice's tone calmed down a bit before continuing. The person started walking towards the end of the pipes as he spoke, as evidenced by the footsteps that they could hear.

"Agreed. The transport's environmental systems won't last too long as it is. Once it goes, we'll most likely end up freezing to death."

Bosch watched as a foot came past the pipes, followed almost immediately by the leg, then the main body of the person. Finally, Sargo came into view, still looking at someone to his right. As he turned the corner, Sargo's face turned around to see the main hallway area, which was when he saw Bosch.

Bosch suppressed a small smile at Sargo's surprised expression. From behind him, Terrick rounded the corner, unaware that Bosch was seated at the platform and watching the both of them. He glanced at Sargo, saw the surprised expression and then turned to look at Bosch. His expression changed to one of surprise as well. Sargo reacted first, rushing forward to Bosch. Terrick snapped out of it as well and came just behind Sargo.

Bosch simply put a hand up, signaling he didn't need any help, and before Sargo could say anything, he simply nodded over at the white sheets and asked a simple question. "Who?"

Sargo looked at the sheets, his expression turning somewhat grim. He stared at it for a few seconds, before looking back at Bosch, a somewhat sad expression on his face. Finally, he looked down before speaking. "Ramayan and Sarno. We found Sarno dead after the crash. Ramayan suffered massive injuries….we weren't able to save him."

Bosch nodded grimly, not sure exactly what to say in reply to this. Although it had been expected, there was little that could have prepared him for the news. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group for a minute, before it was broken when Bosch looked up directly at Sargo and spoke in a somewhat low voice

"At least we tried our best….they wont be forgotten……none of them will."

Sargo only nodded, but the expression didn't leave his face. Rather than let the silence return, Bosch pushed matters ahead by clearing his throat and continuing.

"Status update?" he asked.

Sargo looked up at Bosch and gave out a sigh. Clearing his throat, he nodded and glanced back, indicating for Terrick to continue with the work they had come back to do. Terrick simply nodded back and moved off towards one of the corners. Bosch watched as he switched on the environment suit's flashlight, lighting up the corner and revealing the ladder that led down into the transport's cargo hold. Terrick turned around and carefully descended the ladder, into the darkness below. Bosch looked back to Sargo, who was now towards the right side of the hallway near one of the outcrops they were using as a table of sorts. He was rummaging through a small bag for some supplies.

Finally, he withdrew two small cups, along with a bottle of water. Placing both cups on the outcrop, he poured some water into both and then placed the bottle back on the outcrop. Wielding a cup in each hand, he turned to the platform and walked towards Bosch, holding one out towards him.

"Drink first, you're de-hydrated." Sargo spoke. Bosch just nodded his thanks as he accepted the cup. Bringing it up to his lips, he took a sip first. He was somewhat surprised as to how cold it was, but then Bosch realized, he should have expected it in this sort of weather conditions.

Sargo sat down on the ground next to the platform, taking a few slow sips from his own cup, waiting for Bosch to finish drinking.

Bosch was the first to speak up once he was done with the water.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

Sargo didn't look up; only staring at the cup he was holding in both hands.

"Very….." He shook his head towards the cockpit. "The transport isn't in good condition. Even if we could repair the engines, I doubt it will be anywhere near flyable, much less space worthy for that matter. Fortunately, environmental control is still online - if only barely. Venson says it will fail soon though, so we need to find some sort of shelter."

Bosch looked down. The situation appeared grave indeed.

"What about our stores? How bad is the situation there?"

Although it shouldn't have been possible, Sargo's face actually became grimmer. Looking at this, Bosch braced himself for even more bad news as Sargo continued on.

"The stores are even worse. We lost nearly half the cargo due to damage from the crash. We're down to a day's worth of food, and now that Ramayan's dead, we're pretty much dead in the water in that regard….as for medical supplies, we've got none left. Most of the surgical nanites were finished when we tried to save Ramayan, while the rest went on patching up your leg and neck. Other than that, there isn't much left intact. Only the basic stuff survived: stuff like ropes, chains, some field equipment, along with a single stove."

Sargo paused, looking at the cup and frowning. Bosch could see he was trying to remember if that was it. Then a thought occurred to him, a rather urgent and horrifying one at that.

"What about the ETAK?" he asked. Without it, they would not be able to communicate with the Shivans at all and then they would be _really_ stuck here.

Sargo looked up in surprise, not expecting that question. He nodded to his right, towards something beyond the pipes in the engine room.

"That? It's still online and working. We re-enforced it enough that it survived the landing intact - hell, it's about the only thing here that's survived and working at a 100."

Bosch breathed a sigh of relief at this. At least now they had a way to communicate with the Shivans when they came…He nodded before continuing.

"That's good then. At least we can communicate with the Shivans when they come down for us. It should be soon, if we can't get a signal back to them first."

Sargo frowned a bit, but didn't say anything to this, allowing the silence to hang over them for a full minute before he got up off the floor and headed back to the outcrop for more water. He first poured himself more water, before turning around and offering Bosch some more as well. Bosch nodded and accepted the refill. Rather than let the silence continue however, he looked at Sargo and asked him a question.

"What were you and Terrick talking about just now? What did you find out there?"

Sargo didn't look up from the cup. Taking a sip from it, he replied.

"We found something……strange, to say the least." He paused, frowning to himself a bit before continuing.

"It's a structure, a rather odd one at that. It's similar to some of those Inca temples we studied in history class, sure as hell looks like a temple for that matter. It's not very far from where we are right now, but the fog out there is so thick we didn't spot it till were right on it! Both Terrick and I climbed to the top of it, and found a massive entrance, along with a control panel. Terrick wanted to open the door and see what was behind it, but couldn't figure out the control panel before it was time to come back. It looks well-built though, and in good condition. If the weather was always like this on this part of the ring, then the inside should be insulated enough for us to survive."

Bosch was intrigued….a temple, out here? On this ring? He had suspected the ancients were religious in nature, but enough to create a temple on the ring? Or was it something else? Such questions perplexed him, not to mention piqued his curiosity.

"Once Gibson is back, we should be able to set out again and investigate it. If it's a viable alternative to staying here, it won't take long to move into it." Sargo continued.

Bosch simply nodded. His curiosity would have to wait for now. But if his hunch was right, then this would be a rather amazing find indeed.

"We'll wait for Gibson then." Bosch replied, sitting back. From the looks of it, this was going to be a long wait indeed.

Around a half hour later, the entire group had gathered inside the transport, busy getting everything ready to move. Most of the activity was focused on the once-dark ladder in the corner of the corridor, which was now brightly lit by one of the portable lights. The constant noises of people rummaging through the debris in the cargo hold could be heard, and every so often, someone would either come up the ladder or go down it. The corridor itself had people running around, and was full of bags littered all over the place. The bags themselves weren't very large, being standard battle order for most space crews, it was light and most of its storage capacity was in the numerous pockets all over it.

Meant for carrying any random mixture of tools, the bags were ideal for most emergency occasions. But its designers would never have imagined it being useful on an alien ring world in a hostile environment not that much warmer than that of space itself, after being involved in a crash landing that killed several people and damaged almost everything else.

In the sea of chaos, was a small island of order. Or, rather, in this case a platform of order. Seated pretty much in the centre of the corridor and with Gibson, Sargo and Venson surrounding him Bosch was conducting the final briefing before the four of them would head out. So far things had gone without a hitch. When Gibson and the others returned, Sargo had immediately debriefed them on the find. It had been an almost unanimous decision then that they would head out towards the structure, and do so almost immediately. They had only paused to rest a few minutes and gather what equipment they could, leaving only one last issue to be dealt with before they could go.

How was Bosch going to get there? Unlike the others, he was no longer dressed in an environmental suit, and with the broken arm and cast, there was no chance he was going to wear any above the chest either. The others were still aurguing about how exactly they would get here, with Bosch in the centre of it all, watching them.

"Look, I'm telling you, there's no way any _healthy_ human being could survive for long in the atmosphere out there, much less one that's only recently been injured and not in the best of conditions." 

Gibson spoke, his tone one of irritation and slight anger. His concern for Bosch's safety was evident indeed.

"Yes, but you forget - we're only going for a few hundred meters for heaven's sake. It's just through to the other side of the damn fog and we're pretty much home free!"

Sargo interrupted. His tone was equally annoyed, and he probably had a right to. They had been sitting here and doing nothing but argue for the last 5 to 10 minutes, and it was fustrating him to no end. And in turn, his sentence was cut off as Venson replied to both the gentlemen gathered.

"Yes, but you're also forgetting the fact that we'll be going there at a rather slow pace. It's not like we can just run over or something? Have you even tried running with a broken arm on flat ground? Much less on snow out there!"

Finally getting a bit sick of this, not to mention feeling a bit more confident in getting onto his feet, Bosch decided to end this right here. It would do no use to have his crewmen bickering amongst themselves, especially in their current situation.

Without saying a word, Bosch slowly put one foot on the ground first, and gradually shifting his weight, he put down the other. His legs nearly buckled on him, and he had to grab the platform for support. The others noticed this and stopped arguing immediately. They rushed to Bosch's side to help him, but Bosch waved them away.

"Either we go now, or we're not going at all. We can't stay here forever, and we need some other place with a working power source to activate the ETAK."

He looked at first Gibson, and then Venson before continuing.

"Gibson, Venson, I understand your concern for my safety, but we're all dead if we stay here anyway. There is no use waiting any longer. Let's go."

Both nodded rather reluctantly. Gibson then turned around and went to get one of the bags. Bringing it back to the platform, he opened it and took out a loop of rope. As he uncoiled it, Bosch saw that it was rather long - long enough to probably hold all of them. Tying one of the ends around his waist, the offered the other to Sargo and the other to Venson. Finally, taking the other end of the rope, he tied it around Bosch's waist. Bosch only nodded. This was pretty much the plan they had all agreed to. It would keep them all together, despite the thick fog, and if anyone had problems, at least the rest would know.

Once everyone was done, they picked up their bags and gear. Only Bosch remained without carrying anything - which was almost impossible given his broken arm and weakened state.

Sargo stood next to Bosch, and would be accompanying him throughout the journey, providing support in case he fell or needed help. Just before they were ready, Sargo took one of the blankets they had and wrapped it around Bosch's upper body. They had managed to get him into some of the environmental suit earlier, but it was only up to his waist, meaning that his chest, face and hands would still be vulnerable to the cold. They did not even have a pair of goggles with which to cover his eyes, and the only thing that would be protecting Bosch's head was the admiral's hat that had accompanied him for the entire journey, along with a long piece of cloth that would serve as a scarf, covering his mouth and nose. Amazingly, unlike the things surrounding or Bosch himself, it had escaped the crash relatively unscathed and still looking as brand-new since the day he had been awarded it.

Well, at least, the blanket should assuage this, and keep him safe from the cold to a certain extent….he hoped.

Once they were all ready, Bosch nodded and spoke.

"It's time then. Let's go."

Taking one step at a time, Bosch took it slowly at first as he tested his unsteady legs. He could walk, and _should_ be able to reach the temple without much of a problem. Then he corrected himself. He didn't have a choice in the matter. He would get to that temple, and he would walk there, no matter how bad it seemed it was what was needed to be done.

With that, the entire group slowly moved towards the rear, past the pipes and into the engineering centre. As they did so, the ambient lighting reduced significantly. Few lights had been placed here, with the priority being the central corridor as well as the cargo hold below.

Here there were simply more pipes and various systems that Bosch only had an inkling as to how it all worked together. Some pieces and components of the structure were organic in nature, while others were metallic in nature, meshing together to work with almost complete harmony.

Of course, he had read the reports on their technology, and had some understanding of how it worked, but to actually _look_ at it and be able to feel it was a different matter.

The group walked through the short maze of pipes and walkways, till finally Gibson - who was in the lead - turned right, which lead into a small corridor ending at a wall. When Bosch looked at the wall, he saw that it wasn't exactly a wall. It was more of a large metal piece covering up a fair portion of the wall. It was made up of the same material and color, but in the dark lighting conditions it wasn't too easy to see where exactly it had come from. Perhaps the others had salvaged it from somewhere, but Bosch couldn't be too sure.

Gibson and Venson stood to either side of the metal piece. They nodded to each other first, and then placed their hands on the metal piece. Venson pushed the piece from the right, while Gibson pulled it from the left, causing the piece to release a high-pitched _screeching_ sound as it was moved out of the way. As the piece moved, it uncovered a large hole in the rear of the ship. Judging from the seared edges, it appeared to have been burnt or cut off somehow. But this made little differences as, suddenly, the wind started blowing through the hole at full-throttle, bringing with it's loud howl snow, hail and what may have been Bosch's worst enemy in this case: the bitter touch of the coldness that billowed past him and everyone else.

Nobody else would - no, _could_ - feel it quite as much as Bosch could right now. It had caught him somewhat-off guard, and not even the blanket he had draped around his shoulders could prevent the wind from covering his entire body from its icy touch. Visibly shuddering, Bosch turned his face away from the breeze, somewhat thankful of the small scarf-like cloth he over his face.

But still, not this would stop him. Bracing himself, Bosch made eye contact with Sargo and nodded. It was time to go. Taking one step forward, and then another, Bosch brought himself to the lip of the hole, on the verge of stepping out, but at the same time not quite there. Sargo went out first, before turning back and waiting for Bosch to step out.

Holding the edge of the hole, Bosch's took another step forward, his foot leaving from the relative safety of the ship into the deep snow that surrounded it. He was rather surprised when it sank further than he expected. The snow here was quite deep, and it threw him somewhat off-balance. Leaning on the hole, he regained his composure and brought his other foot out and alongside the other. Glancing down, he made sure to watch his step as he slowly moved forwards, Sargo next to him every step of the way.

The cold seemed too much, seemingly unrelenting and overwhelming. It beat at Bosch, causing him to shiver almost continuously as his body tried to preserve its heat. Realizing that exercise would help him keep it up, Bosch tried quickening his pace a bit. Ahead of them was nothing but fog, covering the ground and the canyon from wall to wall. It was behind this veil that their goal hid.

A few more steps and several feet later, Bosch paused, before turning around to see where the others were. Gibson and Venson were right behind them, and someone else inside the transport itself was closing the hole again.

Looking at the transport itself from the outside, Bosch realized just how bad the crash had been. Half of it was buried in the snow, but from what he could see of the visible damage, he knew enough to know he was very, very lucky to survive the crash indeed.

Internally thanking his luck, as well as sturdy Shivan shipbuilding, Bosch looked to his left and nodded to Sargo. It was time to go onwards.

And so, the entire group walked onwards, slowly disappearing into the thick fog.


	9. Interlude 3

_**Interlude**_

_When it found me, I did not know what it was, nor did I recognize it for what it would be. I only know when and where it found me, nothing more, nothing less; such was the ignorance that came with my infancy._

_As I wandered through the remains of the installation, unlocking the clues of those that had built it eons before, my movement caught its attention; instantly drawing it towards me. I do not know for how long it was behind me; looking over my shoulder and walking in my shadows. It simply observed me as I wandered through its home, searching as I was to save my own creators from the death that had descended upon them._

_Perhaps it had been watching as the universe around it evolved, since the creation of the installation, or since the abandonment by its creators. Now I must but ponder…was it's fate, similar to mine? Did it too face a similar situation like my own? But instead suffered a far less fortunate conclusion? _

_I do not know. Despite spending eons thinking about it, till today, I just do not know._

_All I do know is that it finally took action. Whatever it was, it reached out and touched me in some way. For a moment, its mind, thoughts and a fleeting few memories; all connected to mine for a miniscule instant before leaving, as quickly as it came. In the seconds that passed after that touch, I paused in my search; my mind filled with questions about what had just happened, what the other presence was and what it had done to me._

_Then, and only then the truth hit me. In a moment that would be etched my memories for eternities to come, realization flashed across my mind: realization of the meanings that came with the concepts of the self and self-awareness. My mind reeled back at the many freedoms and thoughts that came with it, confused and unsure of what to do next. My first instinct was to inform my creators; to let them know of this possible malfunction with my system, along with the possibility of another attack from the presence inside._

_Later I would realize that it was not an attack; for an attack is meant to drive opposition off; to remove life as it were. What the presence had done seemed to be the opposite…from that fleeting contact, I could sense little…but what I did sense was that the presence meant no harm to me or my creators. It was not an attacker, nor did it wish to take any life…instead, it only gave me one._

_When my creators found out; they were surprised - shocked even! How could such a creation gain life? Something not of flesh and blood couldn't be alive, and yet there I was in front of them, living proof to the contrary._

_It is fortunate for me, that their reaction was but only surprise. Had this come about any other time, fear would have brought about the swift end of my existence; but here, there was only despair, for the horrible news had come in._

_The creators had retreated to their home planet; abandoned their empire. They believed at home, they would be safe, for the destroyers were not a terrestrial species. _

_When they had entered subspace, they were trespassers…but their planet was their home…and yet, still, the great destroyers came…and then, their world was gone._


	10. Chapter 6: Winter's Blessings

**Chapter 6**

_**Winter's Blessings**_

"Bosch, can you hear me? Are you all right?"

Bosch could barely hear Sargo's voice over the howl of the wind and the cold. The cold…oh god, it was so cold! He swore. Never had he felt it so, and truthfully, he had no clue whether he could actually continue. His fingers and toes no longer had any feeling in them, and Bosch was worried that he would soon suffer from frostbite or maybe even Gangrene.

"Bosch!" Sargo repeated again, giving Bosch a gentle push to get his attention. Looking over to his left, he nodded at Sargo and spoke in broken breaths and gasps.

"I'm all right…Keep going!"

That was all Sargo needed to hear. He increased the speed a bit, pulling Bosch along as much as he could. The snow kept slowing them down, holding onto Bosch's shoes, sapping his energy with each step. The conditions were almost unbearable…correction, they were unbearable, and Bosch didn't know how much longer he could go.

Looking up, all he could see was the rope for a few feet before it disappeared into the thick fog. Gibson and Venson were at the other end of the rope, and still moving, judging from its tautness and the pressure on it, they were probably holding back for Bosch.

Trying to futilely focus his mind from the cold, Bosch continued to walk through the snow. Looking down, he studied the footprints of the other two men in front of him. Their footprints made large impressions in the snow, which had to be nearly a foot in depth. Yet, considering how long this creation must have hung in space, alone and uncared for, Bosch was surprised that it wasn't deeper.

Bosch did not know how long he continued like that, simply staring down at the ground and taking it one step at a time. The steps and the seconds started to stretch out slowly, each seeming like infinity to him; an infinity in which he could only experience the pain that punished him. It attacked him from every angle, with ferocity equal to - if not greater - Bosch's own will to get through it.

Although his mind pressed on, his body started to falter. Already diseased from the trauma of the trip down, and weakened from a lack of food, it did not have the strength to afford such a venture. His vision started getting blurry, and strangely, the wind was beginning to get softer and softer. But yet, he pressed on. He couldn't stop here..not when he was so close!

But then, Bosch felt it...he didn't know exactly what it was, but there was something in the back of his mind, urging him...compelling him to move on. Safety would be there, and things would get better soon...he was almost at the end of a journey. Bosch tried to focus on that little piece in his mind, but as soon as he did, it was gone. Frowning, Bosch continued struggling through. His imagination was starting to get the better of him. Either that or the cold. From the way he felt, Bosch suspected the latter.

It was only then he noticed that his senses were starting to fade. For some reason, he wasn't feeling as cold anymore, and the wind's howl was no longer ringing through his ears. It was then he heard Sargo's voice. Unlike before, this when Sargo shouted, it wasn't blocked out by the wind and the cold, and instead came through loud and clear - perhaps a little too loud.

"We're almost there Bosch!" Realizing he was shouting when it wasn't required, Sargo lowered his voice before continuing. "Just a few more feet and we'll be out of this damn fog!"

With that, Sargo pulled him onwards, suddenly surging forwards with a renewed fevere. Glancing up, Bosch tried to struggle onwards to catch up as he was half-dragged, half-pulled by Sargo's forward rush. One thing he noticed in particular though - the rope was slack. The others must have stopped, meaning they were their. Before he could think any further though, both he and Sargo emerged out of the fog, and into the dim sunlight.

Bosch's head snapped up, and then his arm followed suit as it rose to cover his eyes from the sun's glare. The fog that had enveloped them throughout his journey was now directly behind him, revealing the small sun just above the top of the canyon wall, its rays providing a warmth that drove back the cold's icy touch from his skin. After traveling through the fog and the cold, it's warm rays were a welcome relief for Bosch. Even though the source was small and distant, it was still effective in lighting up the canyon and bringing some warmth in.

Getting used to the sunlight, Bosch looked straight up and could see the edge of one of the outer arms of the central structure. It was less than a kilometer away - mere walking distance if he so chose it. Only gravity and the vacuum of space would prevent them from doing such a thing in this case.

"We're here!" Sargo proclaimed triumphantly from his side. Bosch looked down and to Sargo, who was looking towards something ahead of them. Bosch followed Sargo's gaze, and finally saw it.

All the memories of the cold, the pain and the suffering faded away as he simply stared in disbelief at the structure that stood in front of them. One thing that struck him the most was it's striking resemblance to an Inca temple; the outer edges of it's structures resembled that of a pyramid in some sense. However, there were a few crucial differences.

The structure was wide, it's base occupying the entire canyon from wall to wall. There was no way to climb to it's rear from there, as part of the base merged with the canyon wall about 8-10 meters up. It wasn't a true pyramid per se, as it appeared to have a flat back separated from back wall of the Canyon. At around 20 stories high, the structure was divided into a separate 'floor' every 5 stories, bringing the tally to the 5 floors total (including the base). The edges of the floor were raised upwards for a height of 3 feet, probably to prevent people from falling off. The walk able distance on the floor was only 2-3 meters at most before the base for the next floor took up the remaining space. The most notable feature however was a central pylon of sorts, that protruded out from just above the top floor (from that angle, it was rather hard to see where exactly it came from), and then went down across the entire structure, dividing it neatly into half. This pylon then buried itself into the ground just in front of the base. Running up the length of the structure from the first floor onwards and on either side of the pylon was a series of stairs leading to the very top floor. There was a long ramp from the ground, leading upto the base and then the first floor. The sides of each floor ended at what appeared to be a doorway to each side, leading further into the structure itself. This was visible for only the first 3 floors. The fourth floor simply had a small balcony and what appeared to be some places to sit strewed about on either side, while the contents of the top floor were not visible from the current angle. The structure's material was highly reflective, giving it a spit-polish shine that belied it's true age and the wear-and-tear it should actually be showing.

In this particular case, the shine reflected the sun's rays directly at the travelers, creating a rather impressive sight.

Bosch was simply awestruck. When Sargo had told him about a temple, he had a few thoughts on what it might have looked like...but this? This was completely and totally different. After studying the ruins on Altair and in the Deneb system, Bosch was familiar with the Ancient's technology and the sophistication of their construction, and this did share many commonalities with the ruins there. However, to actually see those ruins intact, and more so in absolutely working condition? It was little wonder that Venson had wanted to explore a bit first before returning to the ship, and from the looks of it, it would be a while before Bosch would return as well.

Finally, after nearly a minute, Bosch was able to tear his eyes away from the structure, and instead looked to Sargo, whom was still standing at his side, his face having a grin from ear to ear. Bosch gave a small smile as well. This was truly a terrific find, and both Sargo and Venson had to be commended for finding it.

Bosch was the first to speak up, smiling almost. "When I finally do get the chance after all this, Sargo, I swear to God that I will somehow see that you're promoted to Admiral."

He looked back at the others before nodding and walking forward, his step filled with a new-found energy and vigor. There was going to be a lot of climbing to do.


	11. Interlude 4

_**Interlude**_

_There were a few of us left...we knew we would soon be gone. The Destroyers had eliminated my creator's home world, their people and everything they had that could help us. And so I saw their fate as others would see it; there would be little legacy of their technology, their culture or their achievements. The history of what they once were, if ever seen again would spawn none of the awe that filled their massive conquests._

_They know their fate, they are being eliminated. One by one the Destroyers are hunting them down, leaving little hope for those of us who had escaped thus far. It is but mere luck that the Destroyers did not find us, but it would not be long before they did. Yet, despite this time, nobody knew what to do. There was neither place to run nor any place to hide. The Destroyers had us pinned here, slowly encircling the surrounding systems till they found us. They were in no hurry; they knew we had been defeated; all that was left to do was to clean up and deliver the final judgment for our species. Although this time approached soon, something had to be done, and once again, my creators looked to me for a means of salvation._

_Why did they look at me this way? Why did they take such a leap of faith in trusting me, a completely unknown stranger to them? At the time, I didn't know. All I did know was that I needed to help them, and myself, before the Destroyers came. Nothing would stand in their way, and my newfound life would soon be destroyed along with them. At the time, although I didn't know it, I shared a connection with my creators in the form of the installation I was built to study. It was this connection that compelled me to save them and back into the depths of the installation. There would be a solution there; all I had to do was to find it. Perhaps part of the mystery might have been to do with the Great Destroyers' motives. When my creators had entered subspace, the great Destroyers had taken note. Now I ask myself, when my creators conquered and colonized where they did not belong, was the anguish, the suffering and the loss the clarion call of their doom? I do not know. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't._

_What did matter was that upon my descent back into the installation's abyss, I only discovered a silence, solitude unlike before...maybe it was my new-found thought, or the way I perceived the environment, perhaps it was simply that the presence that had given me this gift had left. At that moment, I had little time to think about such things, yet here I am nearly an eternity later, contemplating and cursing myself for not taking the time to find out. I know this is but regret of actions never taken, of paths never walked, but it is still regret, damning regret at that. _

_But as it would continue, the silence would not deter me, and finally, after intense searching, I found a key that would prove to be our salvation._


	12. Chapter 7: End of Transit

**Chapter 7**

_**End of Transit**_

There was just one last flight of stairs to go, and yet, for the life of him, Bosch simply couldn't do it. Leaning heavily on the support pillar next to the stairs, Bosch paused for a moment, letting out an exasperated sigh. Ahead of him, Gibson glanced back and saw him. Turning to the others, he called out to them, catching their attention. Both Sargo and Venson were already on the last flight of stairs, but weren't too high up yet. They both paused and turned to face Gibson.

Gibson simply raised his right hand and indicated for them to take a five minute break here. Venson took one glance at Bosch before looking back at Gibson and nodding. Taking a seat on the stairs, it seemed like he didn't mind the break one bit. Judging from his own tiredness and the effort it had taken to get here in the gravity; Gibson knew how Venson probably felt. Yet still, when Gibson looked to Bosch, he knew that the hardships of his journey here was nothing compared to Bosch's. At least, the environmental suits had blocked out the cold, and they had been moving about in the gravity longer. Bosch didn't have any of these advantages, and furthermore his right arm was now in a cast. How Bosch had managed to survive so far had been nothing short of a miracle; to say the least, and Gibson couldn't be gladder at the fact.

Turning back to Bosch, Gibson approached him at a slow walk. However, when he noticed how heavily Bosch was leaning against the wall despite Sargo's support, Gibson started jogging, reaching there less than a second later. He was careful not to move too fast, lest he fall down the series of stairs that led to the floor below.

Once he was within a few feet of Bosch, he glanced to Sargo before looking directly at Bosch.

Bosch wasn't looking back and instead was focused more on the ground. He was leaning with his back to it; his breaths irregular and almost to the point of gasps. His face was pale and from the looks of it, he wasn't doing too well at all. Perhaps Gibson had thought a little too soon….

Placing a hand on Bosch's shoulder, Gibson tried to get his attention. "Bosch! Are you all right!" his tone filled with concern. He was extremely surprised at how far Bosch moved with just the weight of his hand; his body nearly limp and almost fragile as glass. Rather than risk hurting him some more, Gibson withdrew the hand and instead glanced to Sargo. Sargo simply looked back and shook his head. Obviously, Bosch had had a very hard time on the way.

It was then that Bosch replied, not looking up. His voice was raspy and came out between gasps, but was able to clearly say a few words at least. "I'm fine. Just need a minute."

Gibson was about to reply when Bosch finally did look up at him. His face was almost a deathly white and was covered almost entirely by snow and frost. As Bosch looked up though, he made eye contact with Gibson for a second.

In that brief second of contact, Gibson could almost see the pain through Bosch's expression and his eyes. The man must have been in agony from the pain in his arm, not to mention the cold. Yet, Gibson could only stand there, at a loss for what to do. They were all helpless in this case - they didn't even have a way to help themselves right now, much less be able to aid Bosch. Yet; when Gibson looked further, he could make out something else lurking behind those eyes. It was one of simple and sheer determination, driven onwards by…._something_…..Gibson couldn't be sure what that something was; but it was definitely there if Bosch had managed to push himself so far.

Then, Gibson realized, the only person that could help Bosch in this case would be himself.

The moment passed, and Bosch looked away. His message had been clear - he wasn't giving up here - not when they were so close. Gibson only nodded. They would wait here for a few minutes before pressing onwards.

Nearly 10 minutes had passed since they had stopped and yes, Bosch was still rather uneasy about continuing onwards. The intense pain from his right arm clouded his mind in a fog not unlike one they had just come out of. Although it wasn't as cold as before, the lingering feel of its touch was still there. All this when coupled with his physical exhaustion posed a significant problem to Bosch. It was almost at a point where Bosch doubted he'd actually be able to survive climbing the remaining steps up.

_But then….we're as good as dead anyway._ Bosch thought to himself, remembering their current situation and why they had come here in the first place.

_No._ Bosch thought; reminding himself - too many lives had been sacrificed so that they could get here, most of it at his own hands. He _had_ to continue - their goal was almost within reach now. The NTF rebellion, the run past the Colossus, the crusade into the Nebula and then, the ultimate sacrifice of the Iceni - all of it masterminded to get him here and now - just so that he could give up so close to the objective? Never! All he had to do was climb a set of goddamn stairs and he'd be there.

Focusing on that thought, Bosch drove himself onwards. Raising himself to his feet carefully, Bosch turned to face the flight of stairs. Gibson had been seated next to him, and was caught somewhat by surprise when Bosch did get up, and moved to follow. Standing up and waiting to his left, Gibson simply asked: "Ready, Sir?"

Bosch didn't look back, instead focusing on the top of the stairs, trying to discern what may lie beyond it. At the moment, he could see only the top of the canyon wall, along with a bit of the structure's top, as well as the central beam that met it. No; its secrets would not be divulged that easily, meaning Bosch would have to work for it.

Bosch simply nodded. "Time to go." He replied.

To his right, Sargo took up position to support him, while Venson stood on the stairs ahead of him. It was only a short flight of stairs, yet it was also the steepest - each step being nearly a foot in height and width, nearly double that of the lower flights. It was also significantly longer that the others; nearly 20 steps in total. But yet, the fact that it was the _last_ series pushed him onwards.

Venson nodded and turned around, climbing the stairs as quickly as he could. Behind him, the entire group slowly followed in slow formation; taking as long as was required to conquer each step up. Bosch focused on this; going one step by one step, trying his best to ignore the jolt of pain that coursed through his arm that came with each one.

When he reached the 10th step, Bosch nearly cried out as the pain jolted through his entire arm and shoulder, clearly undoing what healing it had undergone over the past day. His knees buckled, and if it weren't for Sargo and Gibson catching him from either side, Bosch would have probably collapsed right then and there itself. For a moment, he felt like he couldn't go on anymore. His strength had already reached its limits and crossed it, depleting itself to the point that he had little left to him now.

It was in this moment of weakness; of pain and despair that he heard it. Looking up, at first he thought it was Venson calling down to them, asking if he was all right. Then he heard it again.

Bosch didn't know exactly what it was; faint as a whisper in the wind, Bosch could have sworn it was calling to him - but from where exactly he couldn't make out. Neither could he make out what exactly it was trying to tell him. Looking back, Bosch tried pinpointing the source, but failed miserably.

_Hallucinations_ Bosch thought to himself, somewhat alarmed. The fact that he was hearing things simply meant that his condition had deteriorated to an extreme amount.

Yet, Bosch knew deterioration or not, he had to continue. Taking a few gasps of breath, Bosch regained his balanced and continued onwards. He kept repeating the same thought over and over in his head - _not now, not ever!_ The thought focused his mind, driving him onwards, step by agonizing step, towards the top.

Throughout the struggle, Bosch kept his focus solely on the ground - he knew if he lost focus here, it would be the end of him. He could almost feel the shadow of death over him, and one small slip would cost him his life.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the entire ordeal was over. After what seemed like an eternity, Bosch cleared the final step up and upon seeing no more directly ahead of him, he looked upwards.

When he saw it, Bosch could only smile. Through the exhaustion and the pain, Bosch could only smile when he saw the sight ahead of him. It was this that proved his hard work and determination had paid off, and he knew that his efforts had not been in vain.

The sight ahead of him could be best described as simply glorious. As amazing the sight of the pyramid had been from below, the one he was seeing now of its main entrance far surpassed it in quality. Indeed, it was difficult to even begin describing it. The ancients that had built this place had gone to extreme care to make sure each section was ornate in a unique and different way. The nearest and most notable were the railings that formed the boundary of the entire top floor, ending only on either side of the staircase. The railings were gold in color, shining through in the dim sunlight without a single piece of dust on them, showing none of the age that came with being untouched for millennia. On the railings nearest to Bosch, he could glimpse small writings all over it, symbols of a language long forgotten; a language only he and a few others knew so well.

The entire floor itself had a somewhat irregular shape; it opened up in front of them to either side, encompassing a large courtyard of sorts before rapidly narrowing to either side of a large set of doors. The edges of the floor were lined clearly by some sort of fluorescent substance that could probably be able to glow in the darkness - a safety feature as well as a decorative one and functional one. This fusion of the three was prevalent in most of the ancient structures that Bosch had studied to date; yet those were mere ruins and almost non-existent in a sense. They held none of the glory or wonder of the fully constructed and completed structure Bosch was seeing now.

What appeared to be some benches and tables were scattered throughout the courtyard; carefully arranged towards the sides of the courtyards so as to be nearly inconspicuous. The chairs themselves had ornate designs that glimmered in the faint sunlight, and within the designs, each carving and etching glowed faintly in a different shade of the sun's color. When the sun was being blocked by the Gas giant or the station above, Bosch could imagine that the benches and floor combined would cast the entire top floor into an eerie twilight of sorts; ensuring that it would never completely be in darkness.

Although he could see the engravings clearly, he was unable to make out what it meant. It appeared to somewhat similar to the language of the ancients, but at the same time it was significantly different - perhaps a different dialect altogether. It could be entirely possible; after all, the GTVA only had a few samples of the ancient's language from which to analyze and translate; and a few samples rarely suggested anything about the various dialects and sub-dialects in any society's language. But still, with further study it would probably be possible to translate everything.

The only other main features of the top floor were the pillar above them; which went over the top of the structure, connecting at a large overhanging before going behind it, forming an elegantly covered veranda of sorts. The roof of the structure was extremely thick as well, probably containing the systems for opening and closing the doors. The other were the doors directly ahead of them.

The doors themselves were massive, to say the least. Spanning several meters in height and width, they shared much of the same engraving that was present in the other articles in and around the courtyard. Yet, this engraving was more of a generic design than anything else, covering the door's edges and concealing the direction it actually opened. There was also a strange symbol in the centre - if one could call it that. It was similar to the lower half of a pentagon of sorts, the lines forming a simple tub-like structure with a single offset square hanging above the right end. Both ends of the line had knobs on them, and in the intersection between the right line and the base line, a smaller line erupted at an angle exactly half of the intersections. The entire symbol was placed on what appeared to be a lock at the centre of the door; it was hexagonal in shape and at the exact centre of the doors. There was no visible way to manipulate it directly - which meant it had to be controlled by a panel somewhere else on the door.

Venson was the first to speak out, pointing to the door's right corner, where there was a brightly colored panel glowing in the shadows.

"There! That's the control panel I found." He slowly started to move towards it, Bosch and company in tow. Bosch moved slowly compared to the others; taking in the enormity of the sights and sounds of this. This place…this temple….what purpose could it have served? It was a mystery that was tugging at his mind; the innumerable number of questions that his research on the Ancients and the Shivans only multiplied with their actions and this structure. This was all without figuring the additional mystery of the structure directly above them.

_Time for some answers then._ Bosch thought to himself. He had come too far and worked too much for this - he would get his answers, one way or the other.

Clearing his throat, Bosch caught the other's attention. When Venson turned around, Bosch was quick to speak, nodding at the control panel first.

"Any luck with the panel, Venson?"

Venson simply shook his head. "No luck Sir. I couldn't figure out the symbols or how to get the door working. We checked the entire balcony the last time we were here - there isn't anything else here except for what we see."

Bosch nodded. "And the doors on the floors below?"

"All locked Sir. We tried them on the way up when we came here earlier. The locks may just be controlled from here though." He nodded towards the control panel, and then moved aside to let Bosch approach the panel.

Bosch simply nodded. He approached the panel as fast as he could, his pace being fueled by a insatiable curiosity and a need for answers. The others gathered behind him to watch either from the side or from over his shoulder. Although it was somewhat uncomfortable, Bosch couldn't blame there own curiosity and simply ignored it.

Focusing on the control panel; he studied it carefully. It was around a foot or so in width and half a foot in height. Its perimeter was outlined by several artistic symbols and shapes forming an elegant border around the display. The display itself was split vertically into two, with a clear menu and context feature. It was similar in fashion to the regular human displays, but at the same time, even similar to the Shivan displays in a completely different way. At the moment, most of the menu options on left hand panel were dark, while the right had panel simply displayed some text. The language of the text was similar to the engravings, but Bosch was able to translate this dialect better. It was much closer to the mainstream language than the other engravings had been.

"Do you know what it says, Sir?" Gibson asked from behind him.

"Yes, I can loosely translate it." Bosch replied, his tone calm and calculative. His mind was busy remembering all the articles he had read on the ancients and their language, not to mention trying his best to translate the text. Less than a minute later, he was able to finally do it. Grimly, he looked up and considered what it said.

Bosch simply shook his head grimly.

"It's a message, Gibson. It appears that it was left behind by this ring's inhabitants before they evacuated it…." He didn't go on; instead pressing one of the buttons on the menus, removing it completely. When Gibson motioned to ask what it may have been, he simply raised his hand, asking for silence as he worked. The message had gone across clearly - Bosch would rather not talk about it - at least, not now.

Pressing a few of the new controls that popped up, Bosch identified the main controls for unlocking the lower level doors, as well as opening the main upper-level one. He'd leave the lower level ones alone for the moment, and open the one they were next to now instead.

His hand hovered over the control for opening the main door, hesitating for a second. Bosch had read the message, but he still didn't know what would happen if he opened the door. There was nothing malicious, from the looks of it….but still; it made Bosch just a little spooked. But then, where else was there to go? The only way to go now was forwards; and his answers were almost within reach…this had to be it - he couldn't go back even if it was possible - the entire fate of humanity could just well depend on what they did here and now. After all, was this not why he had gone on this mad quest in the first place?

It was then Bosch made up his mind. The hand plunged downwards in a smooth motion, pressing the control almost immediately.

The reaction was equally immediate. A large rumbling sound came from all sides of the doors. Bosch nearly jumped backwards in surprised, and the others took a few steps backwards. The ancient mechanism made loud noises as the door neatly divided itself into half both vertically as well as horizontally. The symbol in the centre parted as each corner of the door withdrew into its corresponding corner on the door frame. The exact mechanism must have been extremely complex, as their didn't seem to be enough space inside the frame to accommodate the doors completely.

As it slid apart, Bosch could see that it actually consisted of two layers, with a separate internal one as well the external one they were seeing now. He could also see a large corridor reveal itself as the doors parted; almost as wide and high as the door itself, it went inside for several dozen meters or so before rapidly narrowing into the darkness, near where the back of the pyramid might be. Lights came on just inside of the door, but the rest of the corridor remained dark.

Bosch looked to Venson and Sargo and then glanced back at the corridor. From the looks of it, it seemed well insulated and suitable for shelter. At the least, they could probably move to the lower rooms, if nothing else.

"Venson, Sargo; go back to the shuttle and get the others. We'll set up our base camp here. Gibson, you're with me, lets check out this corridor."

With that, Bosch slowly walked into the corridor, with Gibson in tow. Both Venson and Sargo looked to each other first before turning around and descending the stairs, towards the transport.

As Bosch stepped into the corridor, more lights started to come on, but the end of the corridor remained in darkness till they were less than 4 meters away. It was only then that a light came on directly above it; revealing what appeared to be a small, circular elevator hidden neatly in a slightly larger alcove. Facing them to one side was a control panel; while inside the alcove was another facing away from them and towards the centre of the lift. Bosch glanced at Gibson before moving forwards and stepping on it, mindful of the gap in-between. Gibson stood back, somewhat hesitant.

"What about the others, Sir?" he asked.

"We'll be done before the others come in. If not, we'll come up first to help them set up camp." Bosch merely replied. Gibson seemed to be satisfied with this and got onto the elevator. Manipulating the controls, Bosch activated the lift. A beeping sound came from nowhere, and the lift started to descend downwards slowly, before picking up the pace.

_And so it begins…our descent into hell_ Bosch thought to himself, his mind full of thoughts of the message left behind by this place's creators.

Had anyone known the language the ancients spoke or wrote; they would have been easily able to decipher the message that once again flashed on the console near the main doorway. The creator of the message might have seemed delusional or even insane at the time, but still, it delivered its intent effectively enough from that perspective. If one were to know the language, and read it, they would be able to see the following text quite clearly:

_We were once a proud people, as well as the strongest;_

_We created this world from the pride and dreams that carried our civilization forward;_

_We hoped it would remain as a monument of our achievements;_

_But little did we realize, we were merely trespassers in this land;_

_For the universe would have its divine retribution for the agony we inflicted;_

_And it passed its judgment upon us._

_We would pay the ultimate price for our sins; one far worse than death itself…._

_Its verdict was final, and as we witnessed; its execution would be swift and unstoppable._

_Nothing is left for us - fate has already decided the future of our species; _

_We are to be wiped out, forever removed from the land we violated;_

_None of us will be left, nor will we ever step on this land again;_

_And so, we shall fade away, much akin to those races which we subdued and destroyed._

_But even though our species is doomed; we know our legacy shall not._

_And so we leave our legacy in this ring;_

_To those that come upon it ages from now:_

_We beg upon thee; to enter this monument…this tomb…to bear witness to the legacy of a once-glorious race; and to the tragedies that we inflicted upon countless others, and then upon ourselves._

_Know the mistakes we made and the horrors we suffered for it, and be wise to never repeat them, lest invite the wraith of an angry cosmos..._

Almost 30 seconds later, the elevator slowed down, as if reaching the bottom. Judging from their speed and how long they had traveled, Bosch estimated that they had gone down to the base of the pyramid. Assuming there were no underground sections, they would be getting off here.

When the elevator came to a stop, leaving both Bosch and Gibson staring at a blank wall behind the control panel. Bosch blinked and looked to Gibson, who had an equally confused expression. There should have been a door or something here…unless….

A loud _swoosh_ sound came from behind them, startling both men. Turning around, they relaxed a bit when they saw it was just a door opening. Looking past the door, Bosch could see a rather long corridor, with another door at the end. It was around 25-30 meters in length, 2 meters wide and around 3 meters in height. It was also somewhat dark, with no apparent physical features or lighting in the corridor itself. Perhaps the lights were triggered by a motion sensor, much like the floor that they just came from above. Gibson stepped ahead of him, towards the lift doors.

Bosch quickly placed a hand on Gibson's shoulder, catching and preventing him from going through the door. Gibson glanced back, a somewhat puzzled expression on his face.

"Move carefully. We don't know what Booby traps they might have put in place here." Bosch said, and then started moving forwards himself. Gibson only nodded and exited through the door cautiously. Bosch himself stepped through a few seconds later. He could not help but ask himself, what was this place? The drab walls and ceilings made it almost contradictory to the beauty and intricacy of the floors and furniture outside. Something was not quite right here.

Then door quietly closed behind them, cutting off what little light was present inside the lift lobby, and plunging them into almost complete darkness. "What the.." Bosch muttered, somewhat surprised at this. He turned around to head towards the door, but then noticed something rather odd.

From the edges of the doorframe, long, thick lines began to form, glowing in colors ranging from a bright blue, to absolute white. Although they casted light outwards, it was still focused enough that the portions in-between were mostly dark. The lines grew like worms, expanding outwards from the frame, till it met the walls on either side of the corridor. They formed rather intricate - if somewhat pointless - patterns outside the door. But when they met the sides of the corridor, each line fractured into several smaller lines - too many to count - and went off in completely random directions. It seemed chaotic; almost totally random the rate and direction they were moving. Some lines raced ahead of others, seemingly in a race to the other side of the corridor, while yet others lazed about, moving in slow arcs and circles, spending their time creating various strange symbols. On the average, these lines moved at around a quarter of a meter every second.

Bosch simply watched on in awe and wonder, observing the left wall while Gibson saw the right. As the lines moved forwards, they left behind small glowing trails that traced their movements through the wall, as if a fire had run through a predestinated course, and was still burning along that course. Each pattern, each loop formed up into other patters and other loops, bringing an order to the entire thing. Bosch kept watching fascination, only realizing less than a few seconds later that these were _symbols,_ and words in the Ancient's own language. Turning to the wall just left of the door, Bosch stepped back, taking in the entire thing. The lines had been incredibly detailed; leaving not only glowing text, but engraving whole _pictures_ in the wall. The pictures themselves were amazingly life-like, despite only being drawn by varying degrees of Blue, Black and White. It gave a strange, animated feature to the entire thing, but was still detailed enough to allow for closer examination.

The picture Bosch was looking at now was that of a completely alien race - totally unknown to anyone in humanity. Bosch looked around the picture, searching for any mention of scale. He found it in one corner a few seconds later. Judging from the ancient's units of measurement, he estimated it was around 5:1 scale, which meant that the creature had to be at least a meter tall. Not very large, but it looked like it could maneuver equally well on either two legs or four, despite its stocky size. It bore some resemblance to a biped dog, and looked like something Bosch would rather not run into without a weapon at his side.

To the right of the picture, was another, smaller one - that of a small planet, contained with a box. Just above the planet was some text describing the parameters of the planet. Reading it, Bosch saw that it was an extremely cold one; averaging sub-zero temperatures quite easily. It was amazing such creatures could survive there at all, much less have managed to have caught the ancient's attention that easily. Right next to the picture of the planet was that of a galaxy, with a small section boxed off, indicating where it was from.

Reading further, Bosch saw the descriptions the ancients had left of the species.

"_Small and numerous are the words best used to describe this race._

_Their civilization was pitiful one, if one may even call it a civilization._

_Yet still, they struggled against our helping hand, our might._

_And we lost many a warrior to their massive swarms on the ground,_

_Proving once again to us that nature has a way of compensating;_

_For where they lacked the gift of true intelligence and civilization,_

_They were blessed with an insane perseverance and tenacity._

_Still, not even this tenacity was enough against our strength,_

_And so their home world fell to the guns of our warships,_

_And the deaths of our warriors were avenged._

Bosch paled a bit, somewhat appalled at what he had read. It was a shocking reminder as to the hostile and vehement nature of the ancients, and in some ways it was fortunate they were not around today.

Walking onwards a bit, Bosch focused on the next picture. This time, it was of a much taller alien - much taller than an average human. Although they were bi-pedal, their faces and body structure did not indicate a mammalian nature at all. For one, their mouths were similar to that of some worms', splitting up into four jaws that fed food directly into a large orifice. But they did have proper 'heads' as it were, with eyes and a bird-like nose. Their entire physique and physical make up seemed to allow them great strength, probably similar to that of a Vasudan's, if not greater. Then one particular thing attracted Bosch's attention. Just looking at it made his blood run cold - the alien was holding an object in it's right hand. It was an object similar to what Bosch had seen not just a week ago, when the Shivans had attacked the crew of the Iceni.

The object was a twin-bladed sword, with a curvature around the end where the sword-bearer held it. It wasn't particularly the style, but the basic design behind it that concerned Bosch. The Shivan's energy blades had a nearly identical shape and size - could this race have encountered them before, and learned from them? Or was it merely a co-incidence? Bosch just shook his head. These were questions he had no answers to, and he didn't like it one bit.

Looking down to where the planet should be, Bosch was fairly surprised to see not one, but _several_ planets. Obviously, this must have been a space-faring civilization when the ancients encountered them. He then checked the text underneath the picture.

"_They were one of the most advanced civilizations we met,_

_And by far their empire was the largest._

_Their lives hungered for the honor that came with battle;_

_And for the glory that came with victory;_

_But with this desire came the cause of their downfall._

_For when the fools first saw us, they attacked us;_

_Without provocation, without reason, they charged at us,_

_Maddened with the lust for blood, and a thirst for honor._

_They repelled our first force, and with not known ferocity, tore it apart._

_So we were obliged to return in kind, and we did._

_Their hunger, as vast as it was, was nothing compared to our need for vengeance;_

_And was nothing compared to our own ferocity._

_Nothing they could have done would have saved them, _

_For our forces rained down upon them like a storm unlike any other._

_But unlike a storm, when we passed over and through them,_

_We made sure nothing was left but dust and ashes._

Bosch stood back a bit, somewhat appalled at this. Had this same fate been shared by all the other races in this corridor? Even though he himself had ordered the death of Millions…it simply paled in comparison to what the Ancients had done before them. Where Bosch had committed Massacres, the Ancients had done outright Genocide.

Looking further down the corridor, Bosch saw that as the lines progressed further, one or two branched off, sectioning off pieces of the wall with pictures and writing in them. It was an orderly separation, with all the pictures and writing fitting in neatly with enough space to spare. He saw Gibson standing down the hall, looking at one picture in particular. He looked to Bosch, waving him over.

"Bosch, I really, really think you'll want to see this." Gibson said as he turned back to see the picture. Bosch couldn't make it out properly from this angle, so moved towards Gibson, trying to make out what he was seeing.

But when he saw it, his blood froze. Standing in front of them, was the perfect picture of one of the last races Bosch had expected to see, especially here.

Looking down at the planet and the galactic co-ordinates, Bosch simply just shook his head. The co-ordinates matched up almost perfectly, and the section of the galaxy was just right as well. Yet, when he looked up at the picture again, he could barely believe what he was seeing.

For in front of them was the perfectly scaled picture of a Vasudan.

The picture was perfectly scaled, and despite being only in a different variant of grayscale, most of the important features were still clearly visible. They were significantly tall when compared to a human - nearly a whole two heads higher. Although humanoid, they didn't look anything like a Human.

Their feet were two toed and significantly large, with a spike-like structure jutting out from the rear of the heel. This structure met with part of the leg which was jutting out from the calf, creating a sort of hole just behind the leg and foot. Their knees weren't very obvious, but there was another, much smaller square structure that jutted out just above the bone structure that made it up. What was more interesting were the upper legs - which were almost non existent save for two parallel, long and thin bones that connected the lower legs to either side of the hip. To an extent, they went past the hip, widening to encompass muscles on either side or then closing to a similar structure that jutted out on the knees.

The hip itself was small, and mostly blocked out by the narrow abdominal structure jutting out from out towards the front. As one looked upwards towards the chest, the abdominal structure unbelievably _narrowed_ before widening almost half a meter later at the chest, broadening to an incredible width before meeting the arms at either side. The most peculiar thing about the arms were it's similar features to the leg, where by the hands were connected to the elbow by two short pieces of bone. The hands themselves were notable in the fact that they were _huge_ - nearly the same size as their heads. The heads themselves were long, arching backwards significantly, with small, stubby and primitive 'fins' at the rear. Their jaws seemed almost plastered in the expression of a frown, and were somewhat similar to a human's with the exception that the cheeks stuck out towards the front a bit more.

Overall, it was a pretty accurate depiction of a normal Vasudan; however their presence, in here of all places, was extremely unusual.

Bosch knew that the Vasudan language had some commonalities with the ancient's as well as some parts of Vasudan society, but he had never knew that the connection could be _this_ strong.

Bosch tried to remember back to when he first knew of this connection almost thirty years ago, when the ancient's remains had been first discovered. They had used the Ancient's technology and information that the Vasudans had discovered on Antares to stop the Lucifer and the Shivans.

But before the Shivans had arrived, the Vasudans were at war with the Galactic Terran Alliance (GTA). The war had stretched on for 14 years before the Shivans came, and only ended upon their arrival and the confirmed appearance of the Lucifer. Vasuda was then destroyed by the Lucifer, after which the GTA was stranded when the Lucifer was finally destroyed en-route in the subspace tunnel to Earth, sealing it off.

In a sense, fate had thrown both races into a common situation with a common enemy, uniting both and sealing their friendship together. But these weren't the only similarities - both organizations spawned small splinter groups that wished to seek alliances with the Shivans during and after the Great War. The GTA had to deal with it's intelligence sub-organization, the GTI, going rogue and stealing a prototype destroyer outfitted with Shivan technology and armor, while for the Vasudans it was the Hammer of Light, who claimed that the Shivans were the cosmic 'redeemers' and the great destroyers.

But now, Bosch knew a lot, lot more of the Shivans than even they did. No-one else had come so close to them, and actually managed to _communicate_ as Bosch did….yet, why was he still plagued by so many questions about their motives? Each communication to date, although providing him with a host of information, was almost useless in explaining to him why they had attacked not only humanity, but the Vasudans and the ancients as well. And what of the races that came before the ancients? Why had the Shivans attacked them, if they did? They had said all would be explained here; yet, the picture in front of him only raised more questions as opposed to answers.

Bosch glanced at the text below the image, hoping to glean some answers from it. The text was unusually longer than any of the other entries, which meant it was of some importance.

"Can you translate it?" Gibson asked, standing next to him, his gaze also cast downwards towards the text.

Bosch didn't reply directly to Gibson's question. Instead he simply started reading the text, translating it as best as he could.

_Theirs was a peaceful race, and one of the oldest;_

_But as we would soon discover;_

_they were also the most treacherous._

_When we first discovered them, they did not attack;_

_Theirs was the only culture that asked for peace and help;_

_So we took their civilization into our fold;_

_Subduing them and assimilating their culture into our own._

_For almost a century, we nurtured them and helped them grow;_

_And for almost a century, they continued to earn our trust;_

_Till one day, they betrayed that trust._

_Theirs was the only one that did the most damage to us;_

_Avoiding most of our power, moving stealthily in the night;_

_For most of of us were too ignorant, too confident to see;_

_To see them circle us, observe our every move._

_They had waited like this for a century;_

_And then plunged a knife into our undefended backs._

_They murdered our citizens and overwelhmed what forces were in their system;_

_Stealing what few ships we had stationed there and blockading it._

_They proclaimed that their civilization would be free;_

_And that no matter what we did, we would never stop them._

_Filled with rage of the betrayal, of denial;_

_Our wraith would come swiftly and decisively;_

_For every ship of ours that they captured;_

_We made sure to send a hundred more._

_It would be a difficult fight for sure;_

_But as our fleets entered their system just a few days later;_

_They were shocked and amazed at the sight that they beheld;_

_For ahead of them was no fleet; no great resistance to stop them;_

_Where ships, stations and our finest existed, were only burning hulks and wrecks;_

_Where entire fleets were meant to be, were nothing but a few straggling survivors,_

_Screaming for help - help to survive or even for death - were the voices of thousands;_

_And amongst the wreckage hid a hidden terror unlike any other;_

_As our ships wandered through the debris, they awoke._

_They attacked us in the thousands; if not the millions;_

_Totally unstoppable, they swarmed our ships, seemingly invulnerable;_

_And soon the remains of our Armada join that of the one we were supposed to slay._

_We were forced to retreat from the system;_

_Hoping and praying that the great destroyers would not follow us. _

_We could forgo one system, so we left it to the Destroyers._

_We do not know what happened to the race that existed in the system;_

_Or of their home world for that matter;_

_But to this day, even as the Destroyers advance upon the last of us,_

_We curse their treachery, their under-handedness;_

_And hope they too suffered a fate much like ours;_

_For such is the price that comes with betraying one's trust._

Bosch nearly staggered back after finishing reading it. The revelation of the text was amazing, to say the least. This simply proved many things to him, upto and including justifying the NTF in a way. Ironically, it also proved how right the Hammer of Light had been. This must have been the legend they had referred to; of the Great Destroyers coming and cleansing everything and everyone in sight. Looking back Bosch considered this information for a second. He had gotten one of the answers he was looking for at least; satisfying him a bit. But there were still many, many questions to go, and they didn't have enough time for them all. Deciding to leave the writing for now (they could always come back later) Bosch took one last look across the hallway and the multitude of species here, before nodding to him.

From next to him, Gibson was still looking at the picture as he uttered out loud what Bosch was thinking just moments before.

"So this is why - "

Bosch cut him off, turning cleanly to his left and moving onwards towards the exit. As Bosch moved, he spoke. "Yes, this is why the Hammer of Light did what they did. But it matters little here and now." Pausing in his stride for a second, Bosch glanced at Gibson out of the corner of his eye, before continuing.

"But we don't have anymore time to ponder this; we've got to find out what's at the end of this."

With that, Gibson took one last glance at the picture before falling into step just behind Bosch. As they traversed the corridor, Bosch was tempted to stop every few steps or so to marvel the diagrams and pictures of the many species that were displayed here; but he buried the temptation and continued onwards.

The corridor was long, and it was nearly a minute later when they finally reached the other side. There was another door here, its frame glowing a bright blue, much like the one around the door they had just come from. The difference here however, was that was an inscription just above the door; with another large diagram right above it. Bosch recognized the diagram as a symbol, one that was the ancient's equivalent of a question mark of sorts.

He paused just before the door, his head craning upwards to read the words.

_Theirs is a civilization unlike anything we have seen before;_

_Older than any other, unmatched in advancement;_

_Their technology was greater than that even of the Destroyers;_

_Yet, all that remains of their legacy is this one structure._

_Forever spinning in the lonely night;_

_For countless ages, maybe even before the great destroyers came about;_

_One must wonder; what happened to it's creators?_

_And one must further ask who had wiped them out?_

_What great calamity had forced them to retreat as such?_

_Despite their great power, their great influence;_

_What horrors of the universe did they behold that was the cause of their doom?_

_It is these secrets that are locked in its vast abyss;_

_And it is these secrets that shall prove to be the salvation of our race._

Looking down, his expression grim, Bosch moved forwards as the door opened up automatically. The scene outside was surprising - it was much like the one they had left. As the doors opened, the loud howling and wailing of the wind came through; and it revealed a rather large cliff face ahead of them….along with a massive chasm a few short steps ahead of the door. The proper floor gave way to a ground of snow and ice; it extended for over one and a half meters past the door before it gave way to a cliff edge. Between them and the other side of the wall however, was a canyon nearly 200 meters wide, and extending on both sides of them. It wasn't exactly a canyon as opposed to a massive hole in the ground. It seemed to be an artificial formation. To the right side, however, was a small control panel of sorts. From this angle, Bosch could see it was glowing and still working for the most part.

Gibson looked at Bosch and then stepped ahead of him, very cautiously approaching the ledge. He nearly crawled there, looking over it and trying to balance himself against the strong wind. Bosch quickly moved up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder and holding him back a bit. When Gibson stopped looking and backed off, his face was pale with shock and fear. Leaning close to Bosch to be heard over the wind, he spoke.

"I can't see a proper bottom to this thing - it's just way too deep! How the heck are we supposed to get across?"

Bosch just glanced at Gibson and then at the control panel. Indicating for Gibson to follow him, he moved towards the panel, examining it.

The symbols here were slightly different than the previous entrance or the elevator for that matter, but the layout and template were the same at least. Bosch was able to figure it out within less than a minute. He spoke out loud, near shouting to be heard over the loud wind.

"Hold on, this panel says there a bridge that can be extended across. I'm going to activate it now."

Pressing a few of the controls, Bosch activated the panel.

Immediately, the ground below them starting rumbling, forcing Bosch to hold onto the panel in front of him and sending Gibson sprawling on the ground, less than a foot away from the cliff edge.

Looking towards the canyon, Bosch saw the cliff wall opening up from the other side of the canyon just beneath the ledge. Strange saucer-shaped devices floated out of these; several meters in diameter, they took up formation in a straight line from the other side and slowly moved towards their side of the canyon, leaving nearly a 10 meter gap between each.

The centre of the saucers glowed brightly as each one activated, throwing an array of dazzling lights upwards for a brief second before dying down again. Finally, around 10 to 15 seconds later, the last one reached the cliff edge just ahead of them. It, too flared up for a brief second, nearly blinding both men and forcing them to look away.

But when they looked back, they were surprised to see a large bridge had formed in front of them; if one could call it that. To Bosch, it simply looked like a massive beam of plastic, extending from there side of the canyon to the other side. It was somewhat translucent, and didn't look like it would hold. Glancing to Gibson, who was now getting off the ground, he took an experimental step forwards, and onto the bridge, testing it's weight. When it didn't give way, Bosch was somewhat satisfied and indicated for Gibson to go ahead. With no barriers or handles on either side of the bridge and the wind blowing as hard as it was, this would be a long and careful walk, to say the least.

Around almost five minutes of extremely careful walking later, they finally reached the other end of the chasm. It had been a somewhat frightening and exhilarating walk, to say the least, and Bosch had lost count of the number of times they had nearly been blown off the bridge by a gust of wind. But, thankfully, it was about to end, and the safety of a proper ground and surface was only a few steps away.

Even though he was almost there, Bosch avoided stealing a quick glance downwards towards his feet, instead focusing solely on the door in front of him. The bridge was half-transparent, and he'd rather avoid seeing the bottomless hole beneath him right now.  
A few seconds later, he stepped foot on the ledge. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bosch finally looked down at the solid ground and couldn't be gladder for it's unequaled solidity. Behind him, Gibson came off the bridge as well, walking up to Bosch's right side. Glancing towards him, Bosch saw that he too was equally glad to be on solid ground after that ordeal. Deciding to put some distance between him and the ledge, Bosch moved towards the door. Gibson followed suit. Closing the gap, the doors opened automatically to reveal another corridor much like the one they had come from, except this one was well-lit and shorter. As they entered it and walked through, Bosch saw that there was little to note about this corridor.

Unlike the previous one, here the walls were only a simple brown in color; with a texture not unlike that of the dirt or sand one would normally see on a barren mountainside. As it wasn't as long as the previous one, they reached the other side within seconds...only to realize that there was nothing here except a small control panel. Odd...Bosch had expected there to be another door here. Reading the panel, Bosch could only see the symbols to activate it. It didn't specify exactly _what_ it activated, though. He exchanged a glance with Gibson before nodding. Guess there was only one way to find out. Reaching out, he activated it with one deft motion.

What happened next surprised both the men completely. The door behind them shut close and the lights went out completely, leaving both men in darkness. And then the entire corridor started to shake. It started with a slight tremor, but soon avalanched into a massive earthquake that sent both of them to the floor. Bosch nearly screamed out in pain as his right arm hit the ground, but he held it back, instead struggling to get some way to steady himself.

And then came the freefall.

The entire corridor first lurched and then started falling at a rapid rate, disorientating Bosch and nearly driving him up towards the ceiling. His stomach lurched upwards, making him dizzy as well. But almost a second later, the free-fall slowed down and then stopped altogether before gently moving forwards, throwing Bosch back into the very ground he was trying to hold on to. Cursing and holding his arm carefully, Bosch stood up, somewhat weary of what might happen next. Looking around him, he noticed that the sides were no longer there - or rather, they were completely transparent and he could now see past them...and the fact that they were almost totally surrounded by water. Then Bosch realized, this wasn't a corridor - it was a damn _capsule!_ and it was no taking them to some destination underwater. Looking to his right, he saw Gibson struggling to get up from next to him. Giving him a hand, Bosch helped the man up before spotting a rather large bruise on his forehead.

"Are you all right, Gibson?" Bosch asked, somewhat concerned.

"It's just a bruise, I'll live." Gibson simply replied, rubbing his hand against his head, leaning against the glass for support. Looking up, he saw the water around them and his expression changed to one of confusion. "What the hell happened?"

Bosch looked outside, taking a guess. "Well, looks like we're in a capsule. Wherever we're headed, it must be important to get there like this."

Gibson only sighed and nodded in reply. He sat down on the floor, nursing the bruise. Bosch instead focused on their surroundings. It appeared that they were quite deep underwater - probably a deep lake or something similar. The outside surroundings were dark, with visibility being only a few meters in any direction, and even that was due to the light from the corridor's ceiling. As they moved through the water however, Bosch could make out something in the shadows, just beyond the limit of the light. It moved slowly, matching their speed, but Bosch was unable to make out a proper shape. Whatever it was, though, it was extremely large.

Then it slowly started to cruise in the light area, revealing exactly how large it was. Bosch took a step back out of fear; and one could hardly blame him either. For in front of them, almost as long as the corridor itself, were nothing but a massive pair of jaws, lined with equally massive and sharp teeth. Gibson was looking down at ground when Bosch nearly tripped over him. Gibson's head snapped up to look at Bosch first, and then to where Bosch was looking.

"Hooooly shit…" Gibson muttered; his face had an expression of sheer awe and fear.

Both men just watched as the _thing,_ moved closer to the corridor. It started moving faster, moving in front till its eye came into view. The thing was massive, nearly twice as big as a human head, and it was staring right at both men right now. It glowed an unholy red, with the black iris taking up less than a tenth of the entire space. It was bright enough to act like a search beam of sorts, casting a focused amount of light against the glass and everything inside the corridor.

The glow changed from red to blue however, as several thin beams opened up from the outside of the corridor, reaching out and touching the creature at various spots. It was hot enough to immediately turn the water surrounding into steam, and then sear the creature's flesh significantly. It let out a groan that shook the entire corridor, before finally moving off back into the darkness.

Bosch looked at Gibson before breathing a sigh of relief. Had it not been for those lasers, there was a good chance they would be fish bait right about now.

Then the corridor shook again. Looking outside, Bosch realized that they had come to a complete stop. They just hung there for a second, absolutely still, before the entire thing began to move upwards slowly. The rate was slow, and not too uncomfortable, so both men just stood and waited for whatever happened next. As they ascended upwards, the blackness started to fade a bit as blue light came through. It became just a little bright before the corridor stopped and shuddered again. Fearing the worst, Bosch sat down and tried to hold onto the legs of the control panel.

"Hang on, this may get tough!" He shouted to Gibson, who was also trying to find something to hang onto. His warning came just in time, as, suddenly, the corridor shot upwards and out of the water. The rate of ascent was fast, and had they been standing, both would have sustained serious injury from falling down.

The corridor ascended upwards through what seemed to be a tube of sorts. It continued for nearly a minute before finally slowing down and coming to a stop. A small beeping sound could be heard from the panel, and Bosch got up to read it. They had arrived to their destination it seemed. This was only confirmed by the loud whoosh sound that came with the door opening behind them. Gibson got up from behind him and moved to Bosch's side.

Bosch turned around and nodded. He was all right for the moment, they had to go on. Gibson simply nodded in reply, leading the way out and keeping a cautious look out for anything.

The room they entered into was vast, to say the least. Completely circular, the blue walls reached upwards into a dome-like roof, and in any direction, it was filled with diagrams upon diagrams of star maps. At the very centre was a bright source of light that was powerful enough to light up the whole room. What was most peculiar, however, was that like the place they had just come from, the floor ended a few short feet from the corridor, with a control panel directly next to them. Again, the drop beyond the ledge ended in a blackness, but Bosch thought he could hear the sounds of water coming from down below. In the centre of the room however, was a massive pillar that ended at the same level of the edge. From what Bosch could see, there were large displays and several control panels on the surface of the pillar, giving it the appearance of a control area.

He looked at Gibson before looking at the control panel. If this was anything like the previous place, the controls should extend a bridge here. Both mean steadied themselves first before activating it however. Once Bosch did however, there was no shaking, no motion here. Nothing moved at all - the only difference in this case was that the light bridge came up almost immediately between them and the other end and curved upwards to either side, providing a primitive railing of sorts.

Both men looked to each other in surprise, before moving forwards towards the control centre. Again, both walked cautiously across the bridge, not looking down. They reached the centre almost a minute later. The centre was circular, exactly like the room, and all around (with exception of the small entrance they had just stepped from) both men were dozens of control panels and displays of various sizes. Some of them showed maps on the entire ring, along with symbols which Bosch recognized as displaying weather conditions.

"Amazing…" Bosch spoke out in awe as he looked through each of the displays. Such technology…such automation! He knew the ancients had been advanced, but not to this extent. The entire ring was running completely on its own, with no outside interference. The AI in control was far, far more advanced than anything the GTVA had, and had effectively run it for unknown millennia.

Many thoughts raced to Bosch's head; but one in particular stood out: now what? They had effectively reached the control centre of the ring. The Shivans had promised them that answers would lie here….yet, presented with so much information, Bosch didn't even know where to start.

Glancing at the displays, one in particular caught his attention. Gibson was looking at it as well, trying to decipher something in the corner of the view screen, but to no avail. Bosch moved closer, trying to see it.

Only when he moved closer however, did he see the small partition at the corner of the screen; showing a picture of a structure with five arms and a large hole in the centre. On this small panel, Bosch could see a few words. Upon translating, his grim expression turned from a frown to a smile.

Gibson looked at him, somewhat puzzled by Bosch's expression.

"Sir? Do you know what it says?" He asked.

Bosch nodded slowly. His excitement was not unfounded in this case; for the diagram on screen was one of the installations above the ring, and this control room was the key to getting up there. Every moment he stayed here brought about new surprises, the fact that the ancients had this technology - hell, the fact that it could even _exist_ simply proved it.

"Yes, yes I do. That -" he pointed to the words "Means that this ring has a teleportation system, _and_ that it is on standby, _and_ that it can be activated at any time to take us up to this point on the installation above us."

Gibson's features changed to one of surprise.

"What the..? You're serious, right? Teleportation is simply not possible!"

Bosch waved his hand towards the control panel. "And yet, my friend, there is one here for our use."

Turning around, he looked at the controls for a second, then remembered something.

Venson and Sargo would have reached the others by now, and most probably would be on the way back. The others should have gotten ready. Hopefully, the teleporter should be enough to accommodate the 15 of them.

Then, Bosch remembered something else, and thought sadly to himself. _Not fifteen…..thirteen._ They would doing this trip with two less members than he had intended…but at the same time, he knew he couldn't just leave them in the Shivan craft either.

Stepping forwards, he examined the controls and found the ones which were slaved to the weather devices. He tried translating and figuring out the technology here. It was difficult, but he managed to get it after almost a minute. The sequence was deceptively simple with only a few standard presets alongside several fine-tuning controls. He selected the area where the pyramid was, and changed the weather control here to a slightly warmer template, where the snow would melt slowly. At the least though, it would no longer be as cold as before.

After this was complete, Bosch turned around to Gibson. He was thinking the exact same thing that Bosch was.

"The others should be ready to get moving now…" he whispered slowly.

Bosch simply nodded, his expression was grim, with a slight tone of sadness in his voice.

"I know…when we find them, however, we have….." Bosch paused, unsure of what to say. A second later, he continued. "….a. 'duty'….to finish before we go anywhere from here."

Gibson simply nodded. The man obviously knew what Bosch was referring to, but he wasn't looking forward to it either. Despite both having done it countless number of times before, neither would ever get used to it. It was doubted if _anyone_ could get used to it, at least, not when it was with someone whom you knew, and knew closely.

Bosch glanced back to make sure Gibson followed him. Both men exited the control chamber slowly, neither looking forward to what was going to happen next. Bosch, however, felt it to move the hardest.

No matter how many battles Bosch had won, no matter how many victories he pulled off against the GTVA, no matter how difficult it seemed, it simply paled in comparison to the loss and the anguish of the funeral detail that came after. There was no perfect victory for Bosch; for with each one he had created, many of his men had died to pay the price. Although he could reason their deaths, giving the explanation that they died for a higher cause; it never comforted him…no matter what excuses he gave, the guilt remained on, burdening him and dragging him back.

Too many people had died at his hands….yet, he reminded himself now, as he had realized then, unless he kept moving, even more would soon join them.

It still didn't make things easier though.


	13. Interlude 5

_**INTERLUDE**_

_There is little left for us... little time; but much irony. _

_In my desperate search through the installation, I discovered many secrets; secrets that I had overlooked through my searches before. One could not actually call them secrets, however, as they were present in broad sight, despite my many searches before. Although my prior ventures into the installation's data banks brought forth much information, I was simply unable to analyze it correctly, as ignorant as I was. However…with the gift the presence gave me, it allowed me to look at this information…to study it, and realize the deeper meaning hidden beneath._

_And now, I realize, perhaps this information was hidden for a reason…perhaps, it was never intended to be seen at all. It was placed in such a way that my creators would have been unable to _see_ it due to it's sheer size and volume…and yet, it was so cleverly spread out, such that only one with my creator's intelligence and knowledge would be able to _comprehend_ it's value. I question to this day; was I ever meant to see what I saw on that day? The presence had seen it fit to show it to me……yet…when I think about it…could it have been mistaken? Considering my deeds and actions with that knowledge…that _power_…I hardly seem like the right candidate for it. _

_Irregardless of what I think now, what matters is what happened then, for I had discovered two very important things, both of which would prove to be the salvation - and eventual destruction, of our very race. _

_The first discovery was that of the great destroyers; their ships and their very nature. I did discover that they are not invulnerable. The destroyers that darkened our skies like a plague can be harmed. But, the sheer irony is that we have no way to deliver the hurt. We have the knowledge, but lack the means. So this shall be our legacy…from the flux of subspace, the great destroyers were birthed; and hence it is in subspace that they are most vulnerable. For in subspace, they cannot raise their shields, and _into_ subspace, they can be tracked. Once, this discovery would have been the key to our survival; the key to our victory over the destroyers. _

_But now it is meaningless. Gone are my creator's vast and glorious fleets. Stretching across the galaxies, had they known this when they existed, even the power of the Destroyers would bow down to their collective might. Nothing is left of this; and the paltry few ships that now orbit this installation are but a mere shadow of what once was._

_However, with the second discovery, this may just be enough to guarantee the survival of most, if not all, of us._

_The second discovery relates to the purpose of the installation; a purpose that none of us would have guessed and one that, to this day, I am unable to completely fathom. The actual role this installation plays is not clear; but what is clear is that this role allows it's reach to extend not only to this galaxy, not only this entire _universe,_ but _outside_ this one's as well!_

_In the heart of this installation…this device, there exists a gateway; a gateway unlike any other. It goes not to anywhere in this universe, but to outside of it; to an entirely different one all together. What it offered was a possible refuge; a way to a place the destroyers would not be able to follow. Although I knew nothing about the place, or what exactly lied beyond, compared to the threat of extinction, it offered us one thing most of us needed so desperately: hope. _

_My creators had lost almost everything; their homes, their families, their empire. I realized that this would only make them more receptive to it. _

_I presented this option to my creators. Although they were understandably hesitant, they had little choice in the matter. It instilled hope in an otherwise despaired population. We did not have any other option, and my creators agreed, we had to go on. _

_The plans were created and set. Their execution would have to be swift; for the destroyers were already advancing upon our positions, and their scouts had just entered the system neighboring ours. My creators had numbered nearly 4 Million on the ring, but fortunately, we had 2,000 ships in which to take them. This number, as large as it was, was but a mere fraction of what their fleets once were. Most of them were damaged, and in little condition for any sort of combat. But it was exactly this that was required of them, as well as those willing to stay back and fight._

_I have read a saying from my creator's history. "In times of great Adversity, Heroes will arise." And at that time, I was one of the few fortunate ones to actually witness this. _

_The destroyers had to be stopped or at least delayed as we made our retreat. However, those who would stay back to encounter the destroyers would not have the chance or opportunity to come with the rest as we departed through the gate. _

_And yet, to this day, I do not know exactly how many arose to meet that challenge. It seemed like everyone was willing to do it; to be part of the small fraction that would stay back and be part of the last stand… the last stand our species would ever make in this universe._

_All I know is that there were more than enough for the plans required. And soon, our journey would begin._

_**Interlude (continued)**_

_This is the written log of Admiral Bosch, leader of the Neo Terran Front._

_Much has gone on in the past few hours as we move base camp to the Ancient Temple and control room of this installation. The brief look I had through the computer when I went in with Gibson yielded an overwhelming amount of information about the Ancients and this Installation. The complexity and machinery that keeps this installation running is simply amazing and intriguing, suggesting a far, far, more advanced civilization that we had initially imagined. The technology here is at least two to three hundred years more advanced than anything the GTVA possesses and is based on concepts we never even considered. Although most of the technology here is fascinating to study, the most advanced and interesting one would have to be the Ancient's Teleportation system. _

_Although I only got a brief glimpse of it earlier, this system appears to accomplish what many a scientist has been trying to do for decades: the perfect conversion of matter into an energy stream, and then re-conversion of it to matter without any loss of information at all. This information is not only exciting in the potential in which it could aid humanity, but it is also important in the fact that it now gives us a way to get onto the installation above. _

_However, as amazing as this discovery is, it also presents a rather complex and worrying revelation. With such an advanced technology and the numbers the ancients possessed; the fact that the Shivans drove them back seems to be rather suspicious, especially after the amount of technology we have seen them display to date. _

_Although I do not deny the possibility that the Shivans may have much higher technology that what we have seen, it is still more than likely probable that it is not _very_ much more advanced. However, if it is more advanced, and indeed, if the Shivans do have the numbers, where were they? Why did the Shivans choose not to eliminate us and instead go full-out against the Ancients? The power, the technology required to accomplish such a task….with it, the Shivans could have easily eliminated us, but yet, in both encounters they didn't. _

_Did they underestimate us both times around? Or do the Shivans have a different plan for us altogether? The answers to these mysteries are totally unknown, but I am reminded of what the Shivans did tell me before we came down here - that everything would be explained on the installation. It is rather, frustrating, this. Why are the Shivans being to mysterious, so secretive? Although they did hint earlier about some massive problem, something that may just go beyond this universe itself, it still actually answers few questions._

_Sadly, from the looks of it, my only option will be to wait till I can get to the installation, and then find out what the Shivans are referring to._

_However, before we go up to the installation, a duty is required of us…of me. _

_The graves have been dug, and we've managed to find two NTF flags in what remains of the Transport's cargo bay. As sad as the duty makes me, it is still a duty I must conduct. In my service through the GTVA and the NTF, I have played all the roles in funeral details…from sending off fellow pilots and colleagues who have succumbed in battle, to conducting details for those under my command. So many friends; so many lives that I knew…all vanished within an instant, sometimes leaving behind a mere empty shell, while sometimes leaving behind nothing at all…it all seems to unbearably tragic, in a sense. My entire life seems to be shrouded in the presence of such death, as it was proven even more so my by later actions. _

_Although I may regret my actions, there is little that can be done to change them. Many people have died due to the NTF, many people whom would have lived if not for my actions. At one point of time, such death was at least bearable; for there were but mere strangers. Their deaths were a vital and needed aspect for my plans to unfold however…it was a choice I made; sacrificing the few for the many, and it is a choice that I will never deny, regardless of what History may say. This…journey, this quest. I _know_ it to be true, and that my actions here will save all of humanity. Anything less would be an insult to the entire purpose to the NTF, to history, and most of all, bring about the possible death of Humanity at the hands of Shivans, much like the Ancients died ten thousand years ago. _

_But unless I remember those deaths and the results my actions, all will be for not. I am condemned to eternity as the only one who truly knew what those deaths meant, and hence I must never forget them. Hence, as tempting as it may be, I cannot justify dropping the title as leader of the NTF, as much as the movement may never exist. To do so would be to deny history…deny the memory of those who have fallen, and that of my comrades. _

_The funeral detail is set to start in an hour or two, and most of the men are ready. I am now faced with a much different choice though. It is not an easy choice, but regardless, it is one that I must make. Two of my best friends, my most loyal colleagues, have fallen in the name of the NTF, and for me. I have come far enough along my journey for me to go alone if required, and I do not wish for the others to suffer the same fate without knowing the truth._

_And so I must think carefully; for my actions and words over the next few hours may just dictate the outcome of this entire ordeal. _

_End log._


	14. Chapter 8: The Tragedy of Peace

**Chapter 8**

_**The Tragedy of Peace**_

Although the canyon's ice-cold winds were no longer; the blanket of fog remained; fighting a loosing battle and refusing to give way to the rising temperature of the air around it. It would probably take days - if not weeks - for the Fog to lift fully, but to Bosch it mattered little; for they had little time to spend here.

Standing stiffly at attention, he no longer shook or shivered in the cold - at this temperature, his uniform's coat was more than enough to keep him warm. Although his arm was still in a sling and that side of the coat hung loosely around his shoulder, his efforts to try and look at least respectable enough seemed to have succeeded. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he could see that both Venson and Raynold were standing equally still and at attention. To the side of each was a crude shovel, carefully laid to rest on the ground. To Bosch's right, he could just make out at the boundary of the fog the outlines of the two graves that had been dug there earlier. It was a foreboding sight, one that made Bosch uncomfortable. Till now, he had only performed ceremonies in space, and had only done this on the ground once before, and only then it had been for-

_No._

He pushed aside the memory before it affected him too much. The past was the past, and he needed to focus on what needed to be done here and now. He instead focused his mind on the questions that had been perplexing him since his trip to the control centre...the most important and urgent one now was the nature of the Vasudans.

On Deneb and Altair, Bosch had picked up hints and outlying references in the Ancient's writings and records to a species resembling that of the Vasudans, and of some of the acts that they had committed. But none of that data, that evidence was concrete or solid in any way, and the mystery had stayed firmly in the realm of speculation and extrapolation of the data. Worst was that during his active search for more clues to the puzzle, he had been stopped at nearly every turn by the Vasudans themselves...first, on Deneb and then on Altair itself. Each attempt to gather information, to uncover the truth was thwarted and subverted secretly by the Vasudans. Few others in the fleet saw it; saw their manipulations and the veil in which they had covered Terran Command.

It was then that Bosch knew that he would never get the answers while remaining in the GTVA...he had needed a distraction, something with which to throw the attention off him. The very basic idea and form of the Neo Terra Front had come about then. In fact, if it were not for one of the personnel that he was now paying respects to, the NTF would have never come about in the first place. It had served its purpose to enable a distraction and allow the journey into the wreckage on the surface of Deneb, providing key information data on the Shivans.

Remembering the surface of Deneb, Bosch shuddered. What he had seen there...the memories of the battle, the devastation were terrible; if not downright frightening. The area he had gone to in particular was the planet's largest desert...and the largest single graveyard of the first Great War with the Shivans. A massive battle with the Lucifer had taken place above the planet in an attempt to hold the line, but sadly, it had failed, resulting in massive losses. The wrecks of many ships still hung above the planet, orbiting for close to forever in a slow yet definite spiral towards the planet. The most prominent had been the large Orion destroyer; sitting silently in space, its dark hull preserving in death none of the prestige and glory that accompanied it in its birth. The normally steady and well-made armor plates were mostly torn apart, most noticeably in the rear near the engines, just above the fighter bay, where a massive hole extended right through the Destroyer, revealing the sun on the far side. If one looked carefully enough, they could see seared-off edges of decks, living quarters, the engineering bay and even the remains of docked fighters inside of it - such was the power of the Lucifer's flux cannon.

As desolate as the scene was in space, one would truly know the great costs of the war on the ground of the planet below. The dunes of its largest deserts were not longer created by sand or rocks, but by the scattered fuselages and hulls of the many fighters, bombers and even cruisers that had crashed into the planet. However, it was what surrounded these that were not only disturbing, but undeniably tragic as well. Sticking out between the piles of metal debris and hull bits were the white bones and remains of the pilots that once flew these once-majestic craft across the vast expanse of space. The desert did not play any discrimination; consuming both veteran and rookie pilot alike; regardless of gender or species. Buried in the desert alongside the remnants of the Great War, was a relic of something that came after; a relic that was somewhat placed there by Bosch himself. Bosch had been partially responsible for the legacy behind by the GTI. It was upon this grave, this legacy that had held the key to his ultimate creation, the very reason that he was here. It was there that was the birth grounds for ETAK.

But still; the motives of the Vasudans was now questionable, at best. They had clearly double-crossed the Ancients, but could it just have been the quest for freedom? Were they truly united as the alliance thought? Or did the Vasudans have a much deeper and darker secret than thought before? They had tried to stop him for a reason, and it was imperative that they find that reason as soon as possible.

His train of thought stopped however, as a disturbance appeared at the edge of the fog around them. Looking carefully, he watched as, as if in slow motion, the first few of the group slowly break through the dense fog. Gibson was in the lead, marching forwards slowly. The body was wrapped heavily in an NTF flag, and was located in a make-shift harness of sorts that the men carried. On either side of the body, they held up their side of the harness with one arm, while swinging the other as the entire group moved to a slow, steady march. There were a total of 4 men carrying the body. Two at the front to either side, with two more carrying the legs just a step or two behind them. Their training did not betray them here; for the entire group moved in perfect unison, keeping the exact same pace as Gibson.

The three near the grave stiffened; if it were possible to stand even more still than they already were, they just managed it. Studying the cloth, Bosch realized that this was Ramayan's body.

_Ramayan...rest in peace, old friend_. Bosch thought to himself.

Although not one his best friends, Ramayan was definitely one of Bosch's oldest. Senior to Bosch by nearly half a year, he was equally as old and both men shared in this connection over many a cup of coffee, especially when the discussion turned to the present day's youth. Bosch nearly smiled, remembering the memories - upon retrospect, they both had turned into the very old Geezers that Bosch used to dislike during his own youth. Sitting and chatting away, complaining about the modern-day teenager's bad habits and recklessness. Ramayan was also the only exo-biologist in the entire group; and knew the most about Shivan anatomy, biology and physiology than anyone else, with his knowledge being on par - if not greater - than Bosch's himself. He too shared Bosch's curiosity and fascination about the Shivans, their origins and motives. It was thanks to Ramayan that they had jury-rigged the ETAK device after vital parts for it on the NTT Sunder had been intercepted by GTVA spies.

Bosch owed a lot to him that was for sure. Without his continued support and help, the NTF, ETAK, Bosch's own research...none of it would have come about had he not met Ramayan six years ago. Although it was a long time ago, Bosch could still remember it as if it was yesterday.

**Flashback**

"First, of all, Captain Bosch, I must congratulate you."

Bosch blinked and looked somewhat surprise at the old man sitting at the centre of the table. A rather aged and small figure, Admiral Gerald was very imposing nevertheless. His normally fierce expression more than made up for any thoughts a person would have about the man's capabilities, or his age for that matter. Seated next to him was Commodore Sheila, the academy's chief instructor, and Lt. Cordova, his own instructor. Both were frowning, hands on the desk and leaning in to listen to what the Admiral had to say. The Admiral himself was looking straight at Bosch, whom was desperately looking for a way to avoid direct eye contact, but was unable to find much alternatives. The Admiral's tone had been low and somewhat muted. This could most likely either become very bad, or become _extremely_ bad from the looks of it.

"What for, Sir?" Bosch asked, his tone calm, not betraying the surprise at the Admiral's words, or his own fear at the moment.

The Admiral glanced down at the report and looked back up. He raised his right hand up, holding a piece of paper in it. Bosch could almost hear the growl of anger as the Admiral's features changed to one of near-rage.

"Well, for starters, I have to congratulate you for royally pissing me off by having an Incident report on my desk this morning, giving me the worst possible way to start it off."

Just as quickly as it came, the expression vanished as the Admiral continued.

"And then, after reading the report, I must also congratulate on achieving two more things. Do you know what these are?" He asked, looking directly at Bosch.

Bosch simply shook his head.

"Well, the first one is quite noteworthy. I must congratulate you for being the first pilot in the entire history of this Academy - which, might I remind you, is over a hundred years old - who has not only _thought_ of completing the basic runner's course in such a unique, creative - and dare I say it - fashionable way, but attempted it as well. You may consider yourself proud for displaying such an act of intelligence and conceptual thinking to come up with such a plan...not to mention the sheer and utter _stupidity_ when it came down to the decision of executing it."

The Admiral paused, and then, oddly, he smiled. The course he was referring to was one that any new pilot had to go through to qualify for active duty. It simply consisted of going through a series of checkpoints, all based around an Arcadia installation and it's docked Ganymede construction bays. There were several variants of the course depending on the type of ship that the pilot was qualifying for, and over the years many had tried to use shortcuts to get through with faster and faster times. In this particular case though, the problem had to be the Ganymede rings.

"The second thing I have to congratulate you for is pretty much giving not only me, but the entire academy one hell of a big laugh this morning, as well as giving us a winner for this year's 'Academy Clown' award."

Bosch simply stared at the Admiral Blankly, his face featureless and expressionless. He had expected everything from extra duties to the worst case - a demotion in rank.

The Admiral cut off his thoughts, continuing.

"I swear to all that is holy, to this day, I have never seen a pilot moronic enough (and trust me, I've seen the worst) to ever manage to think that an Ursa bomber can squeeze inside the gap of those Ganymede rings and that it is a viable shortcut."

Bosch nearly groaned, remembering it almost perfectly. The rings in question here were right next to each other, leaving a small gap in-between. Pilots normally had to rush to the waypoint on the other side of these rings and then back again before heading for the finish line. Smaller craft like the Perseus, or the Horus would go straight through the gap...

Bosch regained his composure though and looked the Admiral right in the eye. He spoke up, barely containing the anger, the embarrassment.

"Sir, respectfully speaking, if you had given me a proper working bomber that didn't stop half-way through the damn course, I probably would have made it through - "

The Admiral cut him off.

"Being in the Great War, and the rebellion afterwards, you of all people should know when to rely on your equipment, and when not to." He looked back down, and then back at Bosch. The intent in his look was clear; this meeting was over. Bosch tried to say something, but again the Admiral cut him off, effectively sealing his fate.

"Captain Bosch, although this board of inquiry has pertained that you are indirectly responsible for the damage to the docking ring as well as Bomber craft No. U-010-945, no charges will be filed against you, as some of the blame falls on the equipment as well. As such, this board hereby fines you 50 of your salary, for a consecutive period of 4 months. Your request to return to active fighter combat service has also been denied for a period of five years, at which time it will be pending approval depending on your performance once you take these courses again."

Bosch was shocked. In a sense, he had expected far worse, but this...? He had spent nearly four months going through all the grueling courses just to get back into active service; and now it had all gone for waste. He didn't mind getting a demotion if required, but to get back into a fighter or bomber again would have been well worth the price - hell, if they at least cleared him to command a small cruiser or corvette...anything but the desk job they had thrown to him.

He started to speak up, but, again, the Admiral cut him off. This time, his expression was a shade darker. Bosch saw it and decided it would be better off to simply keep his mouth shut. The Admiral looked him in the eye. Bosch met the gaze, surprised to find a bit of understanding in there.

"Just so you know, if it were me, I'd demote you down two ranks and throw you into the command of a Zephyr somewhere - and I know that's what you would prefer to your desk job now. But Rear Admiral Nekh'ber has a different idea it seems."

He picked up a small notepad from his desk, holding it out to Bosch, indicating for him to take it. Bosch took a step forwards and took it. Looking at it, he read the instructions on the pad and frowned. Stepping back, Bosch nodded. The Admiral nodded as well before dismissing him with a wave of his hand. Bosch saluted crisply and walked out in as controlled a manner as he would. As tempting as it was to simply storm out of the room, doing so would accomplish little right now.

The darkness of space outside the window gave little comfort to Bosch as he stared on at the scene beyond it. But then, he thought to himself; whenever he needed it the most, nothing would give him relief; no matter how much he begged or asked for it. This was no exception to that.

He was seated at the back of the transport, in the last of seven rows. Each row was split in the middle, with each side being capable of accommodating two people. Just a few feet from the front row was a door leading to the primary airlock and the exit of the Elysium Transport. The walking space between both sets of rows led to a small toilet embedded inside the wall behind them.

Looking away from the window, Bosch considered the situation. Then he glanced back at the pad in his hand. The message Admiral Gerald had given him on the pad had been cryptic, to say the least. Picking it up, he read through it again.

"Your orders are simple, CPT Bosch. Rear Admiral Nekh'ber placed a request for you to work down at Ribos shipyards on some project they are developing there, but from the looks of it, that's not the only reason he wants you there. You're supposed to hold two appointments at the installation.

The first role is as the Officer-in-charge of one of the construction projects going on down there. I don't know what it is exactly, but looks like a new Frigate class or such – it's called the Iceni project. You're to oversee and bring the project to completion, but Commodore Goldridge – she's in charge of the shipyards itself and the force around it - will brief you on it once you get there.

The second role is as a consultant to another project going on down there. It's absolutely top-secret – so secret that they won't even tell me about it, but from what I've heard, it's something to do with your background fighting the GTI and your subsequent research on their technology.

Normally, I'd say good luck with your future endeavors, but after the amount of trouble and ruckus you've managed to cause us back here in the academy, the only thing I have to say is: don't come back. You're flying days went out a long time ago after you injured yourself, and there is no way you're capable of flying a bomber without being a liability, Bosch. Leave it to rest, and use this posting as an opportunity to do something different – the GTVA are looking for a few good ship captains. Who knows? If you do well enough with the Iceni project, they may just give you command of the Frigate,.

That is all. Report to transport Lambda 2 in two hours with all your belongings. It's headed towards Ribos and should reach there in around a day or two, after which you'll be deployed on an Elysium transport just outside the system. The transport will then take you to the station itself while under GTVI escort.

Yours Sincerely,

Admiral Gerald"

Putting it back down, Bosch reminded himself that reading through it changed little about his current situation. Instead, he looked back outside the window.

Hanging outside the window against the rather impressive backdrop of nebulae that made up the Ribos system was the installation he was going to. It didn't have an actual name – none of the GTVI installations ever did. Its official designation was simply GTVI-I-004/RBS/SHY. Most people simply called it the Ribos Shipyards however.

It was long, and like most Arcadia class stations, was asymmetrical in its docking capacity. Its port was merely a large, flat pad that extended for around a hundred meters or so, and was significantly wide. It held enough spaces for fighters to launch and land simultaneously as well as room for smaller transports to dock. The pad was attached to a wide central body, the most notable feature of which was the large hole right in its centre. The inside was brightly lit, allowing cursory examination and total repair of any ship or fighter that had been placed there. Currently, it was empty.

The starboard side of the installation was the complete opposite in terms of dimensions. It was short and thick, and was actually two 'plates' paired together to make a shape similar to a primitive radiator. A small launch bay was located in the middle, and this was where the transport was now headed. Bosch simply watched as the transport turned, taking the installation out of view and instead once again revealing the backdrop of nebulae that filled the space around him. The beauty of the scene was only marred by a small, long Aeolus class cruiser which, in it's own right, was looking just as good as the scene itself.

Bosch sighed and looked back at the pad in his hand. Questions ran through his mind unabated. Why had Admiral Nekh'ber asked him specifically to be posted down here? The accident...had it gone so far, and if so, shouldn't it have _ruined_ his potential candidacy to this project, as opposed to have promoted it to the point where he had been appointed to it? No, something else was at play here, and he more than suspected it to be related to the secondary appointment he was supposed to hold.

Bosch frowned. The admiral had said that the second appointment was related to his history with the GTI, as well as his research on them. This was extremely odd, since Bosch's own research over the past few years had been private and unofficial. He had only done some small research, not unlike a few dozen others that were involved with the assault on the GTI and its flagship destroyer, the Hades. Hell, after the incident, the GTVA mostly classified whatever they found. They left nothing but scraps for the rest of them...well, maybe the rest except for Bosch.

Bosch's own research specialized not in the GTI's Technology or their organization, but of what they knew about the Shivans along with research on the Ancients, and their connections to the Shivans. He had been involved towards the end of the Great War before that, flying alongside other rookie pilots in the cleaning up of the Shivan forces after the destruction of the Lucifer Super destroyer. Those few months had been the most harrowing in his life; even though the Shivan fleet had been beheaded, the main body continued to fight fiercely. Although to him and his squad mates it seemed like they were fighting the toughest enemies around, they knew from the stories told by the other vets that it was nothing compared to the power of the Shivans barely weeks prior.

It was from there his curiosity of the Shivan nature had sprouted. Untouched by witnessing first-hand the horror they had created, Bosch had been in a rather unique position back then. He had come late enough to avoid being de-sensitized and as uncaring as most of the Veterans that he saw (not that he could blame them), and yet he wasn't too late to avoid having firsthand experience and actually witnessing the power of the Shivans. Only he had been in that unique position, to ask the question of _why_.

Everyone else wondered how their technology worked, how their social structure was like. Few tried to comprehend the rather signification question; _Why_ did the Shivans attack them? _Why_ did the Lucifer only target the home worlds, leaving most of the other planets intact? And most importantly, _why_ did the Shivans attack Humanity and the Vasudans at all? Many had theorized what the Ancients had; that humanity's trespassing of subspace had triggered a chain of events leading to their arrival, to their presence. But to Bosch, it seemed...too easy, too convenient. If they had come because Humanity had trespassed subspace, why did they not come sooner? Humanity had been using it for years, with significant activity going within many tunnels that ended upon the commencement of the Terran-Vasudan war...did the Shivans actually stumble onto them? And if so...he had wondered then, as he did now...where was an entire battle fleet - capable of destroying worlds upon worlds – headed to? What calamity, what force required such a massive fleet, such massive resources...and most importantly, were there more out there?

The GTI rebellion and witnessing the successful implementation of Shivan technology simply encouraged him further. After all, if the GTI could figure out enough about the Shivans and their nature to make use of it so effectively, what was stopping him? And so he had embarked upon what many of his friends called a lunatic quest. He had been determined to find out _why_, to find out what hidden truth could have justified so much death, so much bloodshed. There had to be a reason...and Bosch would find it, he was sure of that.

And now, apparently, he had a better chance than before. Truthfully, the potential to participate in any research connected to the GTI...it was exhilarating, to say the least.

Bosch looked up, smiling to himself slightly. Perhaps, failing the test might not have been such a bad thing after all.

Glancing back outside the window, Bosch realized that he had spent a lot of time thinking. The expanse of space had been replaced with the bright interior of the Arcadia's rather large fighter bay. The transport had just entered, and was now proceeding to one of the docking areas where it would land and offload the crew. The docking areas had multiple levels, depending on the type of craft. Most of the Hercules class fighters were all stationed on the upper levels, where they held up by large metallic claws and didn't need to be precariously balanced on the spike at the bottom. Directly beneath them in the middle, suspended parallel to the wall were several Myrmidon fighters. Wide and somewhat large, these fighters formed the core of most GTVA squadrons these days.

Brand-new and just off the shelf, the smooth and rounded-off design of the Myrmidons significantly outperformed the Hercules in areas of space superiority and peace-keeping. However, Bosch, like most other pilots, knew that the boxish old Hercules would never go out of date due to the sheer firepower they could dish out and the beating they could take. The Great War had been won on the backs of the Hercules, and from the looks of it any successor to the design would most likely fall far short when it came to such potential.

A minute later, the transport shuddered to a stop. Bosch sighed and stood up slowly. He looked over the top of the seat in front of him. On the seat was a small, black duffel bag with yellow outlines and a grey zip. Bosch picked it up and threw the pad inside before moving towards the main entrance.

As he approached it, the door opened automatically, revealing a short junction and a stairwell. At the other end of the junction was a door leading to the cockpit of the craft, while the stairwell spiraled downwards mostly into darkness, if not for the flickering ceiling lights. Railings lined either side of the stairwell, providing some sort of guidance and leverage to counter the rather steep angle.

Holding onto the railing with his left hand, Bosch began the slow descent to the bottom of the transport. Along the way, he passed two more floors, both empty, before finally reaching the bottom. At the end of the stairwell was another junction. To his left were more passenger areas, directly ahead was the exit to the dock from where marines would board disabled warships and such, while to the right was the airlock from which he would exit onto the installation. He glanced to both sides for a second, pausing.

Bosch felt unsure about himself; slightly nauseous in fact. But then, he always felt this way when he was assigned to a new posting. Having to meet new people, look at new places...he swore, one day he would get really sick of it. Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate and turned right, heading towards the door and out the airlock.

When the door opened, his ears were greeted to the familiar sounds of any flight deck; multiple messages blaring over the PA system announcing incoming and outgoing wings, not to mention the familiar sounds of repair and other works going on.

Directly ahead of him a serviceman stood not 6 feet from the transport's entrance. Wearing the standard white service-side uniform of the GTVA's logistic arm, Bosch glanced at the blue epaulets on the shoulders, and seeing a lack of rank, looked down to the arm where a small 'v' shape was capped by a semi-circle - a Lance Corporal. The serviceman was quite tall, easily towering over Bosch by several inches, and looked to be quite fit, if tired. Bloodshot blue eyes stared out from sunken sockets, which in turned had dark circles around then. The most notable feature however was a thick moustache that covered a significant portion of his upper lip. It seemed to creep around the sides of his mouth to give the appearance of a small beard. On the serviceman's right brest was a name tag, with gold letters spelling out the name 'P. Lazar" on a black background.

Bosch came to a stop just an arm's length from the serviceman, who saluted crisply once he had stopped. "Captain Bosch?" His tone was surprisingly soft for a person his size, and the volume was more like that of a harsh whisper than anything else.

"Yes. And you would be...?" Bosch asked in return.

"In this case, I would be your Runner, Sir. I am also doubling as your clerk of sorts, since the current one left with the previous department head."

The man brought up hand, extending it to Bosch. Bosch, for his part, took it and shook it firmly. "My name is Paul Lazar Sir, LCP Paul Lazar – if you wish though, you can just call me Paul."

Bosch nodded. _Casual up front_ he thought to himself. He didn't mind it much, as long the work got done.

Then Paul continued speaking. "I have read about your previous history, Sir, and from the looks of it, you'll be right at home here."

Now that caught Bosch's attention. How had this clerk managed to get access to his profile history at all? It should have been classified several levels above his clearance, at least.

As if he was reading Bosch's mind, Paul's lips curved up in a slight smile before he continued.

"I understand that you think the profile is supposed to be private; but after working here for years on end, you tend to have the occasional contact here and there that helps you wish such things. That, and information isn't exactly completely controlled here, as you will soon find out."

He stretched out his right hand, offering to carry Bosch's bag, but Bosch simply shook his head. He sighed internally – well, this _was_ the GTVI – hell, he'd be surprised if they hadn't examined his profile at least six times _already._

"Well then, Paul, it is good to meet you. However, I believe that I have to meet Commodore Goldbridge?"

Paul simply nodded, the smile fading just as quickly as it appeared.

"Yes, but she's...conviently 'occupied' by some meeting or the other at the moment. If you catch my drift, that is."

Bosch simply nodded. He caught the drift. _Another slacker...as if I hadn't encountered enough of these types already_ Bosch thought to himself. Although the Combat side definitely had it's heroes and a sense of honor...the coldness; the politics that came with the service side sent chills down his spine, and hence the reason for his attempts to get back to combat. He'd seen too many people like this; been backstabbed way too many times to go through it again...well, at least as the head of a project, he had a certain amount of immunity.

Paul stepped aside and waved his arm towards the exit on his right. "However, she did ask me to give you a tour of the shipyard first, if you are willing. Otherwise, you can wait in her office for her arrival." he raised an eyebrow, waiting for Bosch's response.

Bosch only nodded. Having a look at the shipyards would be preferable to simply sitting in the office – reconnaissance and information gathering were always important parts of any assignment; regardless of where that assignment may be.

Paul nodded, and lead the way towards the door. It opened, revealing the internals of a large lift. Paul stepped in, and Bosch followed suit. To the right of the door was a control panel with several buttons on it, each corresponding with the floor of the installation.

Paul was about to reach for the panel, before turning to Bosch and asking "So, sir, which level would you like to examine first?"

Bosch thought for a second, unsure of which destination to go to. Finally, he spoke.

"The construction docks itself; engineering deck."

Paul nodded and pressed the appropriate button. The lift doors closed as the cabin lights blinked for a second. This alarmed Bosch a bit and he immediately grabbed the railing next to him, in case something happened, but Paul was quick to reassure him.

"Relax, sir, these old lifts may be a bit cranky, but they still work just as good as they do when they were built."

The lift surged sideways, surprising Bosch again. For a moment he couldn't help but think, _what had he gotten himself into?_

Around half a minute later, the lift stopped and the doors opened.

The scene beyond was that of a normal engineering deck, the sounds varying from large steel hammers to welders and loud cutters. Stepping out, Bosch looked up at a criss-crossing series of tracks up on the ceiling, upon which several cranes made their way across the docks. The docks itself was vast, completely different from the bay he had just come from. Although there was an airlock and an exit similar to the other one, Bosch realized that this one was only intended to move parts out towards the Ganymede once they were too large for the Arcadia.

His attention was attracted to some activity to his right. Nearby was a square construction pit, with a crane hovering above it, holding within the lattice of chains a large brown cylinder. As the thing rotated however, Bosch noticed the ingrained front side and realized it was actually massive beam cannon. He had to wonder though, what the hell was so big that it required a beam cannons that size? Indeed, no ship today could wield such a thing. Realizing it was probably classified, he didn't give much attention to it anyway. Instead, he focused on the people around it. Near the pit was a man dressed in a blue engineering coverall, a yellow safety hat and a green luminescent vest. In either hand he was waving green fluorescent cones, signaling the crane operator above on the adjustments required. What was more interesting however, were the commands he was shouting out.

Bosch drew away from Paul, grabbing a safety helmet from a nearby rack and then walking towards the pit. Paul simply followed behind. Approaching the man, Bosch stood back a few feet from him, arms crossed he simply listened as the man shouted to the person in the crane above.

"Albright, nice and easy now! Easy...easy...over to the right a bit there! No, no! Not to the left, to the _right!_ Yeah, that's better! Ok, get ready to lower the cannon! Slowly! Slowly now!"

However, the crane operator didn't seem to have heard it properly, and the cannon seem to come down pretty fast.

"What the – slower! SLOWER DAMNIT!" The man shouted, taking a step back from the pit as the cannon careened downwards, threatening to hit the floor as hard as it could.

Then, at the last possible second, the Cannon jerked to a stop mere inches from the floor and then gently came to rest on the floor, with barely a thud or any other sound for that matter.

"Bloody hell! VENSON!"The man shouted, looking up at the crane and raising his fist. He let slew a hail of curses at the operator, till the person in question popped his head out the window, his face smiling.

"Relax boss! I've been operating cranes for 10 years now – you should know that by now!" Venson said, ignoring the cursing.

"I don't care even if you've been working with them for 100 years! This thing's damn important and word's come out from the top that it's to be handled carefully. If anything's damaged, I swear to god - "

"You swear you won't be doing much except docking my pay in exchange." Bosch spoke out from behind the man. Bosch could've sworn the man jumped out of his skin in surprise as he whirled around to face Bosch. He instantly realized his hunch was correct as he stared into the very angry face of Lt. Commander Gibson.

Gibson simply stared at Bosch for a second, his eyes narrowing. He was about to say something, but stopped, then started again before pausing...and a seconds after, only muttered a single word, pointing at Bosch with his right index finger.

"You!"

"Yes, Gibson, me. Long time no see." Bosch replied, smiling a bit.

"You know...you are SO a target for a sucker punch right now." Gibson replied, before letting out a loud laugh. He turned back up towards the crane operator. "Hey Venson! Get down here! It's Bosch!"

"It's WHO?" Venson asked, looking down from the window. He spotted Bosch and cursed. "Holy shit! If it isn't crash-man Bosch himself!" Venson's head immediately disappeared from the window and the crane's operating booth lowered itself to the ground. The door then opened on the side and Venson stepped out. He was also dressed pretty much the same way Gibson was, except the ranks on his shoulder had one less bar than Gibson's.

Venson pulled up next to Gibson, the latter of whom elbowed him and asked, somewhat jokingly.

"Hey, the man here just scared the living daylights out of me – tell me, should I sucker punch him or what?"

"Well, if I'm not wrong, he _does_ still owe you for that game of darts" Venson replied.

Bosch raised his hands up, in the form of surrender. "Hey, I won that game fair and square – it's not my fault that your aim is lousy when you're drunk."

"Yeah...drunk on _your_ damn beer! If you hadn't offered me that drink, you'd have had your ass handed to you on a silver platter and you know it – now pay up my 5 creds!" Gibson replied, his tone jovial. He outstretched his right hand, as if to receive payment.

Bosch, in turn, stepped back. "Hell no way I'm giving you the money! You _chose_ to take that drink, not me! I'm not gonna pay for your lack of control!"

They all paused for a few seconds, an unusual silence befalling them suddenly. As sudden as it came though, it vanished as each one laughed audibly.

The scene was interrupted however, as Paul cleared his throat from behind Bosch, attracting their attention.

"Sir, you know the Captain?" He asked Gibson.

Gibson simply looked at the rank and cursed. "Holy shit! How the heck did you get that 3rd bar so quickly, Bosch? You're a captain already? Jeeezus! And you _still_ don't want to pay me!"

Bosch simply smiled. "All comes with age, my friend." He turned around to Paul, to answer his question.

"I do know the commander here. We were stationed on the Bastion together before our squadron shifted out. We've been together since after that till it was disassembled around a decade or so ago."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, sir, but which squad?" Paul asked, his features in a frown. Bosch could see that he was somewhat annoyed that he had overlooked this detail. But then, Bosch could hardly expect someone so young to know something that was such a piece of ancient history.

Bosch looked to the others for a second before looking back at Paul.

"Why, probably the best squadron to be ever stationed on the Bastion itself! We flew with the finest pilots of the day and were even involved to extent with the McCarthy trails. Our squad was a part of history, and well, so were we. But if I tell you its name, you have to promise me something."

Again, he glanced at the others before continuing.

"We were all part of the 81st Screaming Weasels, the best and fastest interceptor squad of the Great war."

"The 81st Screaming what?" Paul asked, frowning, obviously not believing what he had heard.

"The 81st Screaming Weasels, my friend, and no, you didn't hear it wrong – it IS weasels." Bosch replied.

"Now that is a rather...'Eccentric' name." Paul replied, his tone controlled; but Bosch could tell that underneath it, the man must have been laughing like hell. Almost everyone did when they first heard the name; but they took it all back when they saw them perform.

Rather than press the point, Bosch simply placed a hand on Paul's shoulder.

"When you get the chance, go read up on the air shows from around a decade ago – we were part of the performances then."

He turned to Gibson and Venson and nodded. "Well, Gentlemen, perhaps a beer at the bar a bit later? I have to go report to the Commodore and then I have to report for my other assignment on this installation."

Both men nodded. Venson waved and headed off to get back into the crane. But Gibson remained; before he turned around and left, he asked one last question.

"So, Bosch, where have you been posted to?"

"I'll be taking command of the Iceni project, and the commodore was supposed to brief me on another project I'm supposed to be co-partnering in. Supposedly it has something to do with my background with the GTI and its technology."

Gibson stared blankly at Bosch for a moment. Then he took a step back, as if in shock. He raised his right hand, pointing it squarely at Bosch.

"Hooooly shit! So _your_ the dead man that he was talking about!" Gibson exclaimed.

Bosch frowned for a second. What was Gibson talking about – or rather, _who_ was he talking about?

"I'm the dead man _who_ was talking about?" He replied, making his confusion evident to Gibson (as if he didn't know already).

Gibson simply smiled and lowered the hand. "Oh, you'll see. The only warning I can give you is to look out for Mara – she's one hell of a mean bitch for sure."

With that, Gibson nodded and then saluted. "Well, I gotta go back to work now – got a schedule to keep. Good luck with your meeting Bosch. Come by the bar in around three hours or so if you're free – i'll gather up the whole gang and introduce you to them, but I think you know some of them already."

He then turned around and walked off, leaving Bosch even more mystified than ever. Behind him, Paul cleared his throat, catching his attention. Bosch turned to face him,

"Sir. The Commodore wishes to see you now. If you will follow me, I will take you to her."

Bosch nodded and followed Paul back into the elevator, somewhat wary of what was going to happen next.

Around 10 minutes later, Bosch found himself led into the Commodore's office, and seated in front of her table...All was fine and good, with exception of the fact that _she was not there!_

This essentially left him in a somewhat awkward situation. Although the Commodore was not present; he was unable to leave the office as she might step in at any moment. However, if he decided to stick around and wait, if she came in quite late, he probably would die of boredom.

But then, Bosch was a patient man. If he needed to wait...well, he guessed there was little to do but wait. Instead, he looked around the office. It was sparse, with few other features than the dull table at the center, which itself was cluttered with everything from monitor screens to tons upon tons of paper. Few people actually used paper these days, and it struck Bosch that the Commodore must be pretty old-fashioned to continue the use.

Other than that, there were of course, the chairs in front of the desk, and the large seemingly imposing one behind it, as well as several potted plants lining most of the walls of the room, with exception of the doors he had just come through. No pictures or anything hung from the walls, with the only ones in the room being on the desk in front of him. But all of them were turned away, and Bosch decided it wasn't worth risking turning it around and getting caught. Sighing, he simply leaned back a bit and continued to think about the current situation.

He sat this way for nearly another 5 minutes before his right leg began to cramp a bit. Shifting around a bit, Bosch tried desperately to get some blood flowing back into both legs before they-

_crap_ Bosch cursed to himself internally as the pain started to crawl up the leg. He desperately tried shifting a bit more to his left and moving the leg around a bit, but to no avail.

Finally cursing, the pain drove him into trying to stand up. It worked, to an extent - the blood started to flow back through the leg, and the pain subsided a bit. He gave a short sigh of relief, but this was short-lived as he immediately heard someone clearing there throat behind him.

Bosch whipped around, only to look into the smiling face of Commodore Goldbridge.

She was around the same height as Bosch, allowing her to make eye-contact with him quite easily. An ordinary shade of brown, they did well to match with the color of her skin and the face, which was now sporting a bright, somewhat amused smile. Her jaw was square, with a small, red pimple to the right. Sharp, blue eyes stared out at Bosch through rather sunken eye sockets. The circles around the eyes suggested that she hadn't slept in a while. She was slightly overweight, but it wasn't so bad; and she still looked somewhat attractive, if a bit old.

_How long has she been standing there?_ Bosch cursed to himself.He grimaced before standing at attention (and grunting down the pain that caused) and saluting crisply.

"Commodore Goldbridge I assume?" Bosch asked, greeting the Commodore.

This surprised the Commodore, but not my much. Bosch saw a frown flash across her features, before she nodded and saluted right back. She then smirked before speaking.

"You assume right. I was wondering how long you would've lasted there, Captain. From the looks of it though, you've set a new record."

She then laughed; moving around the table and taking the seat.

Bosch was taken aback by this. How long _was_ she standing there? Or was she watching him from elsewhere? Either way, it was unnerving, to say the least.

"I see..." he replied, cautiously and coldly. If there was one thing Bosch hated, it was having jokes like this played on him.

"Well, let's get down the business then." The Commodore replied, ignoring Bosch's cold reply. She picked up a data pad from the desk. Probably his posting order, from the looks of it. She glanced up however, noticing that he was still standing.

"Sit down Captain, there is no need to be so formal – at least, not here."

Bosch nodded and took the seat again, being careful not to strain his leg too much.

Once seated, the Commodore started to speak, not giving Bosch a chance to start.

"Interesting. Your posting orders seem to have come from Vasudan high command; which is odd since normally such things will come from 3rd Fleet HQ or the like. What were you up to down at the academy anyway? Must have been something serious to get a posting here of all places." she mused softly.

Bosch just shook his head and sighed. He was getting sick and tired of this. The incident was a thorn in his side now, and there was little Bosch could do to remove except grin and bear it.

Looking down, he replied softly.

"I was going through the tests that would certify me to return to active fighter duty. Unfortunately, on my last test I was supposed to fly an Ursa bomber through an obstacle course around the facility. Sadly, I decided to take a shortcut through - "

"The Ganymede ring?" Goldbridge asked, eyebrows raised.

Bosch was rather surprised, he simply nodded and asked.

"Yes. How did you know? I thought you said the news hadn't come here?"

Goldbridge simply leaned back in the chair and smiled.

"That's 'cause I did the very same thing. Those damn rings look large enough for a bomber to go through. However, what I forgot was that the turret took up space too. Once the turret hit the ring, it was sheared off and my power got cut, leaving me drifting in space. Of course, that was ten years ago; after that, command decided to shift me out to here."

_Now_ Bosch was really surprised. The academy instructors hadn't mentioned anything about this to him. What was even odder was the fact that they got posted to the exact same place for the incident.

"But it was too long ago to matter. At the least, know that you're in good company here, Captain Bosch. Right now there is too much that needs to be done, and I shouldn't be keeping you with such frivelties." Goldbridge said, interrupting his thoughts.

She opened a drawer and took out a data pad, handing it over to Bosch.

"These are your assignments. Your primary assignment is to oversee the Iceni project that's going on here. You'll be working closely with Lt. Gibson and Lt. Samsa. However, Samsa will be posting out soon as he's returning to active fighter duty soon, so you'll have to rely mostly on Gibson. The secondary assignment is to assist Dr. Ramayan on a top-secret project."

The last sentence caught Bosch's attention. Top secret? Now this was interesting.

Goldbridge noticed his sudden interest.

"Well, I see that caught your interest. Sadly, I can't tell you much about it except that it's classified beyond my level. I only know that it's called ETAK, and I have no idea what the hell it's supposed to be. You'll be working closely with Lt (Dr.) Ramayan on this. His lab is on level 10."

Goldbridge nodded, indicating that the meeting had ended. Bosch stood up, collecting the data pad. He turned and headed to the doors, which slid open silently. However, just before they closed, Goldbridge called out behind him.

"Oh, and when you're down at Ramayan's lab, say hello to Mara for me."

Bosch turned, frowning. However, before he could say anything, the doors closed – but not before he saw the Commodore give a very cheeky and evil smile.

Who the hell was Mara? It looked like Bosch would find out soon enough. Sighing, he nodded at the secretary seated nearby and then headed out, his mind filled with more questions than answers.

As the lift descended slowly, Bosch had a bad feeling start to form at the pit of his stomach. His journey here had been riddled with problems; and from the looks of it they weren't going to end either.

First, after leaving the Commodore's office Bosch had made every attempt to get the elevator to go down to Level 10, but it had failed; citing reasons that it was not authorized to exit at that level. After spending nearly 5 minutes trying to override or otherwise coax the computer into taking him there, he had finally given up and tried to ask how he got there. Apparently, their was a separate elevator going down to that level, and that level only, but the Computer did not recognize his authorization codes to give the information on where exactly it was.

Hence, Bosch had set out to find it, asking around from the crew how to get to this Elevator and/or to level 10. However, when Bosch did ask the question, whomever he asked would either give him an odd stare, or simply gawked at him. When he had pressed them for an answer, all they said was to not go down there; not then, not ever. He had been bounced from department to department till, finally, in an act of desperation, he had gone back to the Hanger bay and sought for Gibson's help.

Gibson, in turn, had disappeared from the hanger bay, and had left for the mess; sending Bosch all the way across the installation towards the crew rest areas to find Gibson. Even then, searching through the bar itself had been a tough task, but he had finally found Gibson and managed to get the information out of him. However, most of Gibson's friends had given him the same odd stare the others had; and nearly all of them warned him not to go down there.

Then Gibson told them Bosch had been posted there. Bosch could've sworn that anyone would have heard a pin drop in the sudden silence that followed. Although the bar wasn't crowded at the time, it wasn't empty either, and had a respectable level of ambient noise. But the noise, the conversations...it all simply vanished into the silence once Gibson uttered the news. Many of the patrons then simply crossed their hearts and seemed to utter prayers of sympathy and regret. Many uttered the words 'dead man walking' or 'poor bloke' before turning back to what they were doing. But for the most part, Bosch ignored them, took the directions and left.

Unfortunately, the directions led him all the way _back_ across the installation, past the hangar bay and into what appeared to be a very dilapidated and unused portion of the base. The corridors positively _reeked_ of smells the nature of which Bosch didn't want to even figure out. Fortunately it had been brief, as Bosch _finally_ found the elevator after several wrong turns and lots of back-tracking...if one could call it that.

The thing was more of a freight lift than anything else; extremely wide and tall, it appeared to have been specially catered to taking heavy equipment. From the incredible amount of rust on the sides and the support beams, its age was clearly evident. So was the lack of use; cobwebs stretched across the ceilings and walls, leaving Bosch only to wonder how the hell they had even got there, considering that stations were normally swept clean of pests and insects on a regular basis.

He had just shook his head and attempted to work the control panel as best as he could...except for the fact that it was _dead._ Bosch had come very close to simply throwing up his arms and giving up. The universe hardly seemed to be in his favor, and it was quite clear from the suggestions of everyone else he'd be better off not knowing what was down on Level 10. But curiosity drove him onwards...there had to be a reason this was so difficult...something was hiding down there; something that did not want to be found. Besides, Bosch couldn't go back on his orders...it would count as treason, at the very least.

So he had simply swallowed his pride and worked at the console for nearly five minutes before it's lights blinked back on, bringing the entire elevator to life. After closing it, Bosch had set the panel to take him down to level 10. Then the elevator had begun its slow descent downwards albeit at a somewhat slow crawl.

Oh hell yes, it had been riddled with troubles, to say the least. But, hopefully, it should be over soon.

Unfortunately for Bosch, little did he realize that his troubles were only about to start.

The environment in the elevator started to become more and more damp and humid, causing Bosch to start sweating profusely. He instantly regretted not changing out his dress uniform first, but he had little choose but to bear with it for now. He did unfasten the top few buttons first though, and it did bring in a little relief, if nothing else.

Finally, thirty seconds later, the elevator squealed rather loudly as it slowed to a stop. The doors in front rolled off to the right and left, revealing a long, dark corridor in front of him. Only one of the ceiling lights was functioning, and that was towards the end of the corridor, near what appeared to be a door of sorts. Bosch could barely make out the corridor itself. From the looks of it, there were a few side corridors, but he could only tell it from the fact that some places seemed darker than others.

The light of the elevator only seemed to extend for a meter or two past the exit, with the same being for the light at the end. It was times like these that Bosch really wished he had a flashlight. Sighing, he stepped forward, slowly walking down the corridor. It was around maybe 10-20 meters away at most, but still, Bosch walked slowly, feeling the corridor ahead as much as he could before putting the full weight into his step. With the dilapidated conditions surrounding him, it wasn't too hard to imagine that the floor might not be as stable as one expected.

A few meters in, he came to the first junction. To either side of him was a corridor, but here also the lights were all out, with exception of the one near the door at either end. However, all the doors appeared to be boarded up and barricaded. Nobody was getting through there that was for sure. Bosch paused for a second, enjoying the cool breeze and the cross-ventilation that came from the junction. He was damn close to starting to pant out audibly – the humidity down here was insane! No respectable engineer would have allowed such a thing to happen, and you could sure as hell bet Bosch was going to write in a complaint about this. The humidity, almost-zero light conditions and the crampness combined together to give an overly claustrophobic experience, and he could now see why the rest had warned him not to go down here.

With that, Bosch continued on. A few more meters down, he passed by a panel. The panel's lights and displays were on. Bosch looked at it for a second. Although the display itself wasn't very unusual, what were the controls. The control itself seemed to consist of several keys along with an array of five glowing red lights that were arranged similar to a 'v' shape. There appeared to be a breeze blowing in from the side of the panel, as if there was a corridor there. But it was so dark that Bosch couldn't even see his own hands, much less any corridor or door. He simply shrugged. It must have been a ventilation panel or something, while the controls and displays were probably just an outdated model he had never seen before.

Turning back to the door, Bosch once again began his slow trek down the corridor, not giving a second look backward.

Then he heard something.

Bosch wasn't sure what it was – it sounded much like how an insect would move...a soft, quick scratching noise, that's all it had been. But it was enough to drive him into jumping and whirling around to face whatever it was. However, this proved futile as the light from the panel hardly went far, not revealing anything.

Then he heard it again.

It was definitely nearby, and this time quite clear. A definite scratching noise, much like and insect would make. Bosch shrugged. Considering the age and the cobwebs he saw earlier, he shouldn't be surprised – a lot of insects would have made their home here, especially cockroaches. Again, another complaint for the station super-intendent.

He turned around and kept on walking, reaching the door. The door itself was an odd sight, especially on a station. It was like a traditional one, made out of wood and with a doorknob. There were no controls, no security measures to ensure that nobody unauthorized entered, except perhaps the need for a key. Grabbing the knob, Bosch tried to twist it open, and was surprised when it moved. He had expected it to perhaps be locked. But then remembering what the others had said, Bosch realized that anyone coming down here must have a death wish...or perhaps, execution orders?

The last thought sent a chill down his spine. However, he dismissed it. The GTVA wasn't _that_ barbaric, especially after the BETAC convention.

Taking some comfort in that fact, Bosch opened the door and stepped through, seriously doubting that his day could get much worse anyway.

Had one stayed back and observed the panel however, they would have seen something strange.

The array of lights blinked off...and then on again. And then off again, before finally coming back on. It then moved, forwards. It then turned towards the door Bosch had gone through, and slowly started moved towards it, apperantly gliding through the corridor much like how a ghost would glide through the darkness; firmly intent upon it's chosen victim, never faltering, never wavering.

However, it was only as it approached the small ring of light would one have recognized it's true form. Covered in an insect like exoskeleton, the thing had five limbs; three below and two above and back and all of them ended in very sharp and short claws. It took up the entire space of the corridor, using all five limbs to pull it along and through. The array of compound eyes studied the door; and if one looked carefully, they would have noticed a strange 'flap' of sorts next to the eyes, along what a structure that seemed artificial. This structure housed what appeared to be a cannon of sorts.

If one were educated in GTVA history though, they would have immediately recognized the thing for what it was: a Shivan.

Knowing this, one would have immediately evacuated the area and left it to its own devices. But unfortunately for Bosch, this particular Shivan was going to show him just how much worse his day could get.

The room beyond the door was equally dark, and Bosch found it quite hard to make out much. However, a few lights were on here and there, and Bosch was at least able to see a few distinct features. The entire room appeared to be a large lab of sorts; it's surface area was perhaps 50 feet into 30 feet, with long rows of rectangular tables stretching across the length of the room. Lights hung down from the ceiling on long cables, illuminating the tables In the few locations where they were operating. A few others were on, but only faintly, casting their entire regions in a faint twilight of sorts.

The tables themselves held test tubes of various sizes, along with several flasks and burettes. Some of these were filled with water or other chemicals; for the most part everything was empty. However, the faint scent of disinfectant and other chemicals hung in the air, irritating his sinus and causing him to sneeze a few times. The sneeze caused quite a bit of dust to fly off the tables, irritating him even more. Finally, however, he managed to catch his breath and stop it. He just shook his head sadly.

This was…anti-climatic, to say the least. Bosch had expected some sort of proper facility for research, or at least for this to have been the end of the trip to the Doctor's lab. Sighing, he looked around…perhaps there was a door or something that led to somewhere else. After straining his eyes in the darkness, he finally found one at the other end of the lab. The light above the door had failed, and Bosch could barely make it out, but the handle cast a slight reflection off what little light that was there, catching his attention.

_Lets hope this one's the last one._ Bosch thought to himself, getting really, really tired of all this. He was about to head for the door when a loud creaking noise caught his attention from behind him.

Looking at the door he just came from, Bosch realized that he hadn't closed it, and it now hung open, creaking as it swung in the…

_Wait a second…there's no wind in a station._ Bosch thought to himself. And doors simply didn't creak like that on their own.

Whirling about, Bosch came to face the door, which slowly creaked open. But he could only see blackness beyond the door, which was odd; since the light was on a second ago…he couldn't see anything beyond the door, at least, until it opened fully.

Slowly, Bosch could make out something glowing in the darkness. An array of five red lights – not unlike what Bosch had seen next to the control panel. What the hell _was_ it! How did it move from there to here, or open the door for that matter!

The lights turned, looking first left and then right. It turned into Bosch's direction, but didn't see anything, as Bosch had ducked under the nearby table. He cursed under his breath. What the hell was that thing? After a second, he peeped out from just above the top of the table, trying to get a glimpse of the thing.

The array of lights was still standing in the doorway, scanning the rest of the room from the looks of it. However, it slowly moved forwards. Bosch could hear a soft _thunk_ come from behind the door, as whatever it was moved it's limbs and dragged itself forwards. It paused at the doorway itself, as if squeezing to fit inside the narrow archway. Bosch watched as a thick arm extended forwards into the lighted area just beyond the doorway. It was grey in color, and appeared to be heavily armored. At the end of the arm was a three-toed claw. It grabbed the wall on the left side of the door, while another arm extended out and grabbed the right side. Looking carefully, Bosch realized that there were other similar marks along the wall.

The thing pulled itself in, revealing two additional, upper arms as well as one more on the bottom. Although Bosch instinctively recognized it, he was too shocked to process the information.

This thing…it was what the GTVA had trained him to fight ever since the great war, it was the great enemy that had faced humanity, and only through sheer good luck and fortune for us, had lost the war. He had seen the pictures; the recordings of the teams that had gone into a Shivan freighter in an attempt to capture a specimen; they had encountered more just like this…and had been torn to shreds by them. Bosch could still remember the screams of the team for many nights after watching the video for the first time.

And now…here, one of things was standing right in front of him, probably hunting _him._ Worst still, the weapons used by the marines all those years ago only stunned a grown Shivan, and Bosch was with nothing but his hands…and maybe surprise.

But against a Shivan, even Surprise was useless.

He ducked back down as the Shivan turned to his direction again. He then heard it move away from his direction, suggesting that it hadn't seen him. He breathed a sigh of relief and once again peeked above the table…

When he looked above the surface however, all he saw on the other side were five very red, very brightly glowing compound eyes staring right back at him. This was only offset by the massive glow just to the right of those eyes, coming from the shoulder-mounted beam cannon. The Shivan let out a loud screech, causing Bosch to cover both his ears in pain.

Bosch cursed, ducking just as the Beam cannon fired, arching its way through most of the wooden table structures, as well as anything on the table itself. Its bright light illuminated the entire room much akin to lightning. Flasks shattered left and right as the beam ran its course clear across the room, scorching the wall on the other side. Bosch sprang into action, cursing as he ran towards the end of the table. The Shivan spotted him, turning the beam cannon to track him as he ran. He dropped at the last second, tumbling on the ground, the cannon just sweeping by where he had been running less than a second ago.

Catching his breath, Bosch began to run again, this time towards the other end of the room with the door. Behind him, he could hear the Shivan screech again as the Beam cannon shut down. Glancing back, he saw it jump up onto the ceiling, defying gravity by doing a twist in mid-air and grabbing the ceiling with its claws. From there, it leapt towards Bosch, intercepting him before he could turn the corner towards the door. Bosch saw it, ducked and turned just before the last table. The Shivan flew right over him, hit the wall and fell onto the floor, temporarily disorientated.

Taking this chance, Bosch ran as fast as he could towards the other end of the table. He cursed as the dress uniform slowed him down from going at full speed though. Cursed formalities! But then, he couldn't exactly have expected to have come into a combat situation…

As he turned the corner, however, the Shivan recovered and turned to face him. Desperately, Bosch grabbed the door knob and tried to turn in…only to loose his balance as it broke off completely. Holding the knob in his hand he looked at it for the briefest of seconds, just realizing how rusted it truly was. However, he never got the chance to regain his balance, as Bosch fell to the left against the wall. The Shivan took this opportunity and leapt again, landing directly above Bosch. It placed a lower arm on either side of Bosch, while burying its upper two arms into the wall directly above him, pinning him into place. Bosch was now trapped, and quite possibly dead unless he did something, _fast._

The beam cannon once again began to charge, and Bosch could do little but turn away as it glowed brighter and brighter. Till…finally…it greeted him.

"_Greetings._"

The voice it spoke in was soft, feminine in nature. Its tone was completely calm, belying the sheer panic and fear that was in Bosch's eyes as he looked up in surprise and spoke.

"What?"

He asked, somewhat dumbfounded at what the Shivan just said.

"Greetings…my name is Mara. Welcome to the Doctor's lab - How may I be of assistance to you today?"

Before Bosch could reply though, he felt something sharp suddenly puncture his right shoulder. He turned to looked at it, and saw a dart embedded deep into it.

"My apologies for the tranquilization, but my scans indicate that you are supposed to be the Doctor's next co-worker. However, till your role can be confirmed, you are not authorized to know the entry and exit methods into the lab." The Shivan continued, its tone remaining calm, as if nothing as happened.

The universe started to fade around Bosch as the Shivan continued to speak.

"Thank you for your co-operation, and have a nice day."

_Gibson was right. Mara_ is_ one mean bitch_ Bosch thought before the world finally went dark.

"Look, I don't care if it's 'following protocol' but doing this to _every_ single person that comes to this department is going to make our staffing problems worse, not better."

A male voice spoke out, cutting through the darkness that enveloped Bosch. It seemed to come somewhere to his right. Another voice replied though – it was similar to the one that spoke to him before the blackness came up, but he couldn't remember who it was.

"I am aware of that, Doctor, but my orders and protocols are clear. I must identify and stop all unwanted personnel, as well as keep the entrances hidden."

Again, the first voice replied.

"Yes, but we've got enough rumors flying across the base as it is. We're only lucky that the Commodore understands your need to exist; otherwise you'd most likely be a memory by now!"

"But Doctor, technically, my programming is but a memory inside the computer-"

"Oh no you don't, don't give me that technicality crap again! You _know_ full well what I was referring to – you're just trying to change the subject! Imagine what would happen next time someone decided to come with guns – they could just damage the entire projection matrix!"

The first voice countered back, his tone obviously quite angry. Bosch began to recognize the second, female voice though.

"Perhaps, but at the moment I'm afraid to change the subject again. According to vital signs, your co-worker is regaining consciousness."

Bosch slowly began to open his eyes, revealing a very blurry ceiling above him. Fortunately, there was no light staring him directly in the face. From the right, a dark-haired face emerged into view. It was distinctively eastern, probably Indian, and the person had a very worried expression on his face. He looked up at someone on his left, speaking.

"Ah, finally. Mara, get back into the computer – we don't want to scare our guest any further."

Bosch looked to the left, only to see the silhouette of a Shivan fading away into nothingness. Then he remembered what happened. That Shivan….had it merely been a hologram? How? Bosch never knew holographic technology was so advanced to allow such things. Turning to his right, he brought his hand up to his head, and then to the ache in his shoulder.

"What….what happened?" Bosch asked, still somewhat groggy. The man looked down at him and shrugged.

"Mara here tranquilized you. She calls it protocol; I just call it something the GTVI left behind that she should forget."

The man helped Bosch up into a sitting position on the bed. Looking around, Bosch realized that he was in a small medical lab of sorts. The bed he was on was the only one in the entire lab, and was pretty much the focus of the entire thing. Although there were no instruments around the bed itself, it was clear from the panels and the sockets on the ceiling that they existed at one point of time.

"Don't move around too much – the tranquilizer will take a while to wear off." The man said, putting away the small medical scanner he was holding. He placed it onto a nearby tray, on which Bosch could see several instruments, some sharp while others were of…questionable nature, to say the least. Frowning, he looked back at the person, who was arranging the instruments. Bosch asked his throat somewhat raspy.

"Doctor Ramayan, I assume?"

The doctor simply looked up to him and nodded. "Yes, that assumption would be correct, Captain."

Taking away the hand from his head, Bosch nodded. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that Ramayan knew his name.

A long silence hung over the air, as both parties waited for the other to speak first. Finally, Bosch spoke up, smashing the silence.

"I don't know about you, but when one gets introduced to your colleagues in a strange manner, it's never counted as getting off on the right foot." Bosch laughed, getting off the bed and standing. He turned to the doctor, giving a short smile.

The doctor in turn, smiled, nodding.

"Yes, indeed. At least, though, I have fulfilled my obligation to ensure you get the exercise you need. That, and Mara tends to be one mean bitch."

"Am not! I was only following protocol!" Mara's voice rang out from the other side of the lab, where a large display showed several schematics. Bosch recognized it as a large computer complex.

"Are too! Everyone on the stations thinks you are one!" The doctor shouted back at her. He turned back to Bosch before nodding and extending his hand.

"Perhaps we should start over then – My name is Doctor Ramayan. I apologize for her…'enthusiasm', but Mara is a bit single-minded, as are most A.I. constructs these days. Sometimes she seems much like a real person, but others time she reveals her true limitations."

Bosch looked at the hand, and then took it.

"It's no problem. I'm Captain Bosch – I've received orders that I will be assisting you in a project. GTVA command didn't clue me into what it was, though."

Ramayan nodded, but instead of answering, he waved towards the door.

"Perhaps this would be better explained over a cup of coffee. Would you care to join me in the mess?"

Bosch nodded, realizing he hadn't eaten or drank anything since he had gotten aboard the transport to here. He couldn't remember how long it was – but his stomach did as it let out a loud rumble.

Dr. Ramayan simply laughed. "Well, looks like you haven't eaten in a while. Come, I'll get Mara to cook us some food in the spec mess."

With that, Ramayan led the way out, with Bosch in tow.

Several minutes later, they were in the nearby mess, where Mara had prepared several buttered toast and laid it out on the table. As they traveled here, Bosch had observed that there was quite literally no-one else on the entire level. All the rooms they passed were empty and abandoned. However, the doctor did not bother to explain the reason as they were walking. When the reached the mess however, it's condition was quite clean and well-kept, a total opposite when compared to the rest of the level.

Ramayan led them to one of the tables, grabbing one of the toasts along the way. Bosch took a tray and a plate from one of the sides and took a few pieces. After placing them on the table, he then joined Ramayan next to the coffee machine, mug in hand.

"Don't mind if I ask, but is this entire level so empty? Don't you have any other staff here?" Bosch asked.

Ramayan nodded, his focus still on the machine.

"Nope. Only people down here are me and Mara. This entire level used to be full of people at one point of time, but after the GTVI abandoned the original project and cut the funding, the only one left running is the one I am working on now."

The doctor paused, considering carefully what to say next.

"The GTVI didn't have the funding to clear out the entire restricted tech left behind down here, so they simply set the entire level on lockdown. Since I was using it, they didn't have to worry much about wastage either. As for staff…."

Ramayan paused; the coffee machine pinged, indicating it was ready. Taking the coffee jug from the machine, he poured himself a mug, as well as for Bosch. They then proceeded to the table, as he continued to speak.

"Unfortunately, the only people who qualify for working on this project are those with experience with the GTI and the Shivans. Such people are rare in the GTVA, and even rarer in the service side. I put in my request for a research partner over three years ago."

Bosch simply nodded. It must have been sheer luck that whomever had decided his posting assignment remembered about the Doctor's request, otherwise he wouldn't have landed up here at all. The doctor took a seat opposite the Bosch and sipped his coffee.

"What about the research here – what was this place's original purpose? What are you doing here?" Bosch asked.

The Doctor simply looked at the mug, shaking it slowly, swirling the brown liquid around. He spoke, not looking up.

"It's of a classified nature, but since we'll be working together, I might as well tell you. This entire level was once meant as a combat training zone for the 194th Dark Claymores, a combined Terran-Vasudan marine squadron that had been specially trained for combat against Shivans, either on the ground, on our spaceships, or onboard their own warships. To simulate the combat zone, the entire level was fitted with state-of-the-art holographic technology, with main focus being on the nearby void area. We could simulate any surrounding within the void area; ranging from a lab, to inside Shivan transports and if needed, outer space as well. They trained here for almost a decade before funding was cut by the GTVI around two years ago. What happened to them is classified beyond my level, though, so I have no clue. However, the equipment here was so expensive to produce, the disposal methods for it ended up being equally expensive, especially since the newer models can perform significantly better than half this outdated stuff. It's also the reason why Mara exists – she was one of the original batches of 'Shivan' programs that were used as the enemy. I managed to pry her out of the hands of the GTVI when they closed down the project, so that I could use her to continue what I was researching here."

The Doctor paused. He took a sip of the coffee, ignoring Bosch's rapt attention. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Bosch, he continued.

"As for what I am doing here….I was posted here around two years ago, when I was once again contracted by the GTVA to do research into Shivan physiology and biology, just like I had been to work on perfecting their shielding technology during and after the great war. At the time only a few others knew as much as I did, so they hired me back for quite a pay, but turned out my work wouldn't be like what I did 30 years ago…"

This got Bosch really interested. This Doctor…how old was he? From his appearance, he looked as old as Bosch himself, but if he had been working on shield technology during the Great War…he must be a great degree older indeed. His interest must have been too obvious, however, as Ramayan noticed it.

"I see that got your attention. You were involved in the great war too?"

Bosch nodded.

"Yes…I made it into active combat service at the end of the Great War, just after the Lucifer was destroyed in subspace – I was involved in the clean up of the remaining Shivan forces alongside the rest of the 52nd Screaming Weasels. After that, I was attached out temporarily in several missions against the GTI Hades rebellion. That's pretty much where my own research on the Shivans and the GTI began, and probably the reason I am here, now."

The doctor simply acknowledged before replying back.

"Probably. Either way, it's good to know that you've at least got some background in the field. The project we're working on here is probably of extreme importance, but the GTVI don't seem to agree with me in that regards."

He paused. Bosch was curious – the GTVI rarely, if ever, let down projects of importance, but then they were known to occasionally prioritize one that they deemed to be 'more' important.

"The project name I started on was called ETAK. I don't know what it stands for, and I doubt the GTV will ever tell me what it does, either. It was meant as a complete analysis of the way the Shivans communicated and how they lived. We made great strides using what evidence was present until now, but there was a great deal of data that the GTI managed to steal and keep. However, it was enough to start on an ambitious project – one that may allow us _communication_ with the Shivans itself."

Bosch was taken aback. Communications with the Shivans? He had never comprehended such a thing. But then, he as a pilot he was trained for combat, meant to fight a war. Unlike the doctor, he never had the opportunity to think about _stopping_ one. But come to think of it…why not? Till today, many scientists had spent insane amounts of times trying to figure out on how they communicated. Many suspected it was via the high-pitched screeches and other noises they made, as seen in the video. But there were a few, like Bosch, who suspected that there was something else…the Shivans were adept at working in vacuum conditions. Sound normally did not carry across the vacuum, so there had to be some other means. Eager to find out more, Bosch immediately bombarded the doctor with questions.

"So which method will you be using? The suspected sound method, or for something else? Do you have evidence of either?"

The Doctor cut him off – he seemed used to this sort of barrage.

"All will be explained in due time in your work here, I assure you."

Bosch nodded. He'd find out soon enough. But yet, he was curious about something else.

"I understand. However, I hope you don't mind if I ask a rather personal question?"

Dr Ramayan shrugged. "Sure, go ahead." He said.

"Why did you join the GTA back then?" Bosch asked.

Dr. Ramayan simply shook his head sadly. His expression changed to a frown, and he placed the cup onto the table. Bosch immediately recognized that he had hit a sore spot there.

"I never was part of the GTA. Not now, not then."

He proceeded to take a sip of the coffee, before continuing.

"I was with a mercenary group during the great war. We were hired by the GTA, and eventually just became part of it. My lab and facilities were taken over by the authorities, but they let me continue to be part of the research team that took over it. I was the overall in-charge of the project to research the Shivan shields. My parents at the time were both pilots in the GTA, so yeah; I didn't get- too much trouble either. At least, it was till the end of the war."

Ramayan looked down, pausing. Bosch was about to say something when he looked back up, a somewhat sad expression in his eyes.

"Both died in a strike mission against the PVN just hours before the cease-fire was announced."

"I see…sorry to hear that." Bosch said his tone low. Ramayan just shrugged.

"Why would you be sorry? You didn't kill them…such are times of war; something these new age kids desire so badly." He simply shook his head and placed the mug back on the table. He leaned back in the chair a bit, looking right at Bosch.

"It doesn't matter though – at least not here and most definitely not now. I have buried the ghosts of my past – I was one of the few that got the chance to meet the Vasudan captain that killed both my parents. We had talked for ages at length…at first, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. But cooler heads prevailed, till, finally, I realized that he was exactly like my parents at the time: a soldier meant to fight, and worry about little else. Its all in the past, though, and there isn't much I can do now…." He stopped, letting the last sentence hanging in the air.

Bosch couldn't help but remember his own ghosts...perhaps just as bad, perhaps not, but still ghosts nonetheless.

He simply nodded sadly.

"Agreed…but you're not the only one though…" Bosch whispered, remembering the events past. The Doctor looked up, somewhat puzzled by what Bosch had just said.

"My parents were also in the GTA. My father was the captain of the GTC Repbulic, a Leviathan class cruiser. My mother was on Riviera station, Ross 128 when the Shivans came. She was one of the few were on their way out when they did come though, but the Shivans damaged her craft, injuring her severely. By the time we got to her, she was..."

Bosch didn't continue…he couldn't. Instead, he simply shook his head. Such ghosts were too much to bear. Ramayan simply nodded in response. A silence once again took over the room, with neither men speaking.

Then Bosch looked up. He looked directly at Ramayan, who simply looked back. In that brief glance, Bosch realized that they both had a connection. One that time itself seemed to have ordained. Such coincidence…it came about once it a lifetime. He continued to speak.

"Ever since then, I've pursued with everything I've had…to find out why the Shivans did it. _Why_ did they wish to cause such bloodshed, such disaster to us and the ancients? So far, I still haven't found out why…"

He paused…looking down at his own mug. A sudden realization began to dawn, exciting his mind with possibilities…possibilities that he never dreamed of before. Ramayan seemed to pick up on this and continued.

"But if we finish this project…we could do the most direct thing possible – "

" - which would be to simply _ask_ them." Bosch finished, smiling, filled with a new vigor, a new excitement.

"Assuming that the Shivans come back that is – for all we know, we finished them off with the Lucifer." Ramayan pointed out.

Bosch looked down, smiling.

"Perhaps so, Doctor. But from what I know, and from what I have gleamed off the Ancients, the Shivans are not one to give up so easily. There has to be something here that attracted them to us – and when the Great Destroyers have a goal, nothing stops them till it is achieved." He paused, looking back up at the doctor.

"They will be back, Doctor, this much I can most definitely assure you. However, with your help, perhaps we can communicate with them…find out _why…_it would be the only other solution to what may just be a totally blood-filled war…something that the lost generation continually seems to seek, but something which us old-timers wish to prevent."

He paused, letting it sink in.

"So, Doctor, when do we begin? I don't know about you, but I intend to help make sure your project is finished, by hook or by crook.:

The doctor simply smiled. He placed the mug on the table and got up. "We can begin right now, as a matter of fact. Mara, get the summary of our work so far! We have work to do!"

He waited for Bosch to get up before bringing forward his right hand. Bosch took it, shaking it firmly. "Something tells me, this is going to be the beginning of a long, long friendship, sir." He said.

Bosch smiled. Even though they had only just met, he could tell that this was going to be a long friendship, and nothing short of death was going to stop it.

**Almost Five Years Later**

Admiral Aken Bosch stood once again in dress uniform, ready for what was probably the toughest meeting in his life. Although previously, his toughest was after his incident at the academy, what that old admiral could throw at him simply paled in comparison to what the person he was going to see now could do. Even though he had been newly-promoted to the rank of Admiral, it still held little power in this case.

Thinking back, Bosch realized that it had been an eventful few years, to say the least. The past five years were spent working on the Iceni and the ETAK project. The former had actually finished completion much ahead of schedule, but the latter had stalled - and stalled badly.

The Iceni…the GTVA's only class of frigate. Built with the help of his close friends in the shipyards, it had come out magnificently, and now hung in front of Bosch, so close that he felt that he could touch it if he reached out the window. Although around the same size as a Deimos corvette, the Iceni was much more powerful than it. It packed the greatest amount of firepower for any ship it's size, and was capable of both frontal assaults as well as taking on ships from either side. It's anti-fighter weapons package was respectable as well, allowing it cover against most medium and light bombers. All this, while still being maneuverable enough to dodge larger craft's beam fire as well. However, all this came at the cost of armor.

In the design process, they had tried to place the same beam-retardant armor as the Deimos on it, but it had slowed down the engine so much that it barely moved faster than an asteroid. In the end, they stripped off most of the hull plates and left the re-enforced super-structure in place. There was another trump card that nobody else knew about; something Bosch had ordered in place just for himself. It was a secret that not even the GTVA would know about...but they would find out soon enough, assuming if he was forced to play his hand…especially due to the delays with the ETAK.

After nearly four years of work, both Bosch and Doctor Ramayan had come to the conclusion that, without further data on the Shivans, it was simply impossible to move forwards with the ETAK project.

Unfortunately, both also agreed that the missing piece of data – the autopsy report of a Shivan itself – was physically present in only one location within the entire GTVA.

The data was located only on the wreckage of the _Hades,_ the GTI's lone destroyer when it rebelled against the GTVA. The destroyer, although by now nearly half a century old, would have still had it's data in a physical storage. However, one would quite literally have to search every deck of the wreckage in an attempt to find an intact console or data memory core to get it. However, the location of the wreckage itself was classified beyond both their level of clearance, meaning neither could get access to it.

Leaving Gibson in charge of the Iceni project and Ramayan to continue what he could, Bosch had then spent the better part of last year battling the GTVI's bureaucracy and red tape in an attempt to find the location and secure boarding passage onto the Hades itself. Although he had found out the former, the latter had been a problem, to say the least.

Bosch had quite literally fought his way up the chain of command – going from the GTVI representative in Ribose, all the way to GTVI command in Beta Aquilae, bouncing from department to department before finally squaring off with the head of the GTVI itself. However, the head felt that he was not authorized to give permission either, as the wreckage had been moved into the Deneb system, and then crash-landed onto Deneb IV around 10 years ago by the Vasudans. The entire zone had been quarantined, and nobody was allowed to move in and out. Since the system was under primarily Vasudan control and influence, Galatic Terran-Vasudan Intelligence had referred him to the Galactic Vasudan Intelligence branch (GVI), based on Vasuda prime.

After spending four months there, Bosch had gotten to new lows in opinions of the Vasudan bureaucracy, as for the next several months, he was _again_ bounced up through the departments, till, finally, he was going to get an answer today.

The Vasudans had fought him the entire way, for some reason they struggled to stop him from even getting near the Hades, with some officers threatening to arrest Bosch and his crew for treason. Their aggression….it was odd, to say the least.

But today, all that didn't matter. Today was the day he would finally get his answer, as well as knowing his fate and of things to come. They had finally bounced him up to the highest authority, next to the GTVA Security Council as well as the Terran President. Today he would be meeting with Emperor Khonsu II himself…or rather, would be having a conversation with him via subspace radio. A significant percentage of the Vasudan Security Council would be listening in as well.

Still, this was an important day at the least, and he would finally get his answer. In a sense, the fate of humanity depended on it. Should the Shivans ever arrive, and if they had the ability to communicate with them…it might just be enough to avert a second great war with them. It would also mean that Bosch would finally be able to find out _why_ the Shivans did what they did. Why they attacked humanity and the ancients. It was crucial to find answers to these questions, regardless of whether the Vasudans wished him to do so or not.

He looked at the reflection in the window, only to notice Ramayan pacing back and forth behind him. Bosch smiled a bit. The doctor was understandably nervous – hell, Bosch was a little nervous himself.

"Ramayan, you may want to quit pacing. For all we know, they are probably watching us to see how nervous we are." As if to prove his point, he nodded to his right, where on the ceiling a camera was watching them.

Ramayan simply snorted and replied, rather annoyed at Bosch's tone.

"Easy for you to say. You've probably met the high-flyers before, but not me. This is the first time I'm going up to anyone above Admiral Level. What's worst is that of all the ministers and council members out there, I had to get _Khonsu II_. Bloody hell, I mean, _Khonsu II_, he's -"

"-Just another Vasudan." Bosch interrupted. To Bosch, Khonsu II was just another obstacle to overcome in his mission here, and just another Vasudan. The Vasudans overall had caused too much trouble for him already, so he was somewhat used to it. Fortunately for him, he wasn't the only one who felt this way…although they were others that he had met throughout his service, others that still held the old rivalries and hatred from the war before. He had used this to form a backup of sorts, should his endeavors here ever be stopped. But it was a backup that Bosch prayed that he would never, ever have to use. Especially not here, and especially not now.

Looking in the window, he noticed the door open in the reflection, revealing the reason why he feared using it here.

The door opened the reveal a middle-aged woman, several years younger to Bosch. Yet several features were strikingly similar, including the round, broad chin and the long face. She was in dress uniform as well, the rank of Captain adorning the epaulets on her shoulders. The uniform hid her form well; one that did not belie her true age, or size for that matter. She was nearly a full head shorter than Bosch. But this never deterred her, and she nearly always beat him at unarmed combat anyway. What was the most striking feature, however were the eyes. Her eyes were an unnatural green color, standing out from the rest like the eyes of the Cheshire cat in the fairy tales of old. It was a rarity, a genetic oddity, to say the least. It was what made Jessica Bosch the most special sister anyone could ask for.

As she entered, she looked around for Bosch and spotted him near the window. Bosch, for his part, ignored her as she walked up to him, pretending to focus on something past the window itself. She was right behind him less than two seconds later, her footfalls almost inaudible against the carpeting. That was another unique thing about her – her capacity for stealth, which was probably the reason why the spooks in the GTVI had taken her in almost readily. Had it not been for the window or the reflection, Bosch would have never spotted her coming. And as he observed, Ramayan barely had time to react as well.

But unlike in the past, this time he caught her. Just before she could tap him on the shoulder, he sidestepped to the right, causing her to instead tap on the glass window. He turned around, giving her a smug grin and a low whisper.

"Nice try, captain, but no cigar." He said, poking fun at his sister's lower rank.

"Very funny, _Admiral_, but it looks like _someone_ missed the last bulletin on the yearly stealth and self-defense courses that they were supposed to take up." Jessica spat back.

"Oh is that so?" he replied, laughing. His sister never failed to cheer Bosch up. It was something about her…an aura perhaps, something that lightened up the people around her.

She just shook her head before punching him in the arm. Bosch grimaced in pain for a second, before taking a step back.

"Ow! What was that for?" He asked, frowning.

"For never sending me and dad any messages! Both of us were wondering where the hell you had disappeared to – for a while we thought you actually were AWOL, with all the rumors flying about the Admiralty."

Bosch frowned. It was true, at least, he had neglected both his sister and his father during the past five years – but it was not like they kept much in contact anyway, especially after his father was shuffled out to some project beyond his level of clearance.

"That would be fine if I could _find_ dad again. Don't know where he went after that posting – and the GTVI clearly don't like my level of clearance enough to tell me for that matter." He replied, perhaps hoping to gleam a bit of information from Jessica.

"Oh, really?" She smirked, placing her hands on her hips. She always did that when she knew something Bosch didn't – and she liked to always make him jealous of that fact…or at least, _try_ to.

"I take it you know something of where he went?" Bosch asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well. Maybe…." she rolled her eyes, looking to one side. She looked around and glanced at the Doctor. Bosch was quick to interject.

"Don't worry about the Doctor; he can keep a secret…none of this concern him anyway." He whispered, and then led to the near seat. Jessica immediately started speaking.

"Ok, from what I can tell, it turns out dad's been posted to some new construction project. It's something huge – apparently command has decided its good enough to spend a hell of a lot of cash on it. From what Dad's told me (and he isn't allowed to say much) it's a new type of Destroyer based on that new Hecate class – can you imagine? They just roll out those new ships and they want to make something better. Anyways, from what he tells me, it's something like your work on the Iceni – something entirely new and fantastic, and he's been given command of it."

Bosch was intrigued…he had suspected that the admiralty was working on new ship designs, but a variant of the Hecate? This was interesting to say the least….not to mention somewhat worrying. He pressed on for more information.

"Hmm...Interesting…any idea what is it called?" Bosch asked.

Jessica nodded her head. "Yes…apparently they are calling it the _Colossus_, or something like that."

Now this really caught Bosch's interest.

"Wait – isn't that the same name for the – "

"- failed super-ship? Yes, it is – good catch there bro." Jessica interrupted. "They abandoned that project a long time ago though; nothing's left of it except a hulk. One of the greatest failures of the GTVI, supposedly. But I guess that's what you get when you try to combine Terran and Vasudan ship designs – they simply aren't compatible enough to allow that kind of a monstrosity to exist."

Bosch knew very well what Jessica was referring to. Around 15 years ago, the GTVI had attempted to embark on a project – a new 'super ship' as it were, that would outclass even the heftiest Destroyer. It was supposedly intended to be a Juggernaught sized vessel, one that could take on the Lucifer with ease. Tons of funding had been poured into it – only to disappear into what was now a lifeless hulk residing in some system under the GTVI's control. The report had been declassified to Admiral Level a while ago, although certain people working in the GTVI were privy to the report as well. The ship was supposed to herald a new coming for mankind, but unfortunately enough problems had crept in that the project was eventually abandoned. To hear that the name had been re-used for this new project though…it was surprising, to say the least. The GTVA rarely, if ever, recycled ship or project names. He let it slip for the moment though – it would be something he would deal with when it came out.

"I see…well, I guess we'll see when it comes out. Which reminds me…what exactly are _you_ doing here?" Bosch asked, realizing that of all the people he had expected to see, Jessica was probably the last.

"I should be asking you the same question, but word travels fast, and I already know that. As for what I am doing here…"

She punched him in the arm again.

"I _work_ here. I was posted here around a year ago…but _noooo_, big brother had too many things to do to ask his little sister where she was posted." She said, folding her arms.

Bosch raised his arms, as if surrendering. "All right, all right! I admit it, I'm not a perfect brother. Doesn't mean you have to punch me though."

Before Jessica could reply though, the door opened again. A young female lieutenant came through. Bosch recognized her as the secretary that had helped them set up the meeting. She nodded at Bosch. It was time.

Bosch turned to Jessica, looking at her in the eyes.

"I am here for a conference with Khonsu II. What happens here pretty much decides my future for now. I wish I could explain it to you, Jessica, but please promise me that you will wish me good luck." He said, averting his eyes, turning back to the Iceni that hung outside the window. Jessica seemed puzzled by this, but realized that Bosch was probably going in for a tough meeting. She slowly nodded.

"Brother…Aken…good luck. Come back and tell me how it went before you leave, ok? Whether you succeed or not, we still have a lot to catch up to, you know."

Bosch didn't look back at her.

"Jessica...please…I beg of you…pray that I do not fail – for if I do, it could just mean the end of us all." Bosch simply turned, heading out the door, the doctor in tow, leaving his very puzzled and very worried sister behind.

**Two Hours Later**

Location: Iceni Bridge

The lift doors opened, revealing the bridge of the Iceni to both Admiral Bosch and Doctor Ramayan. Several meters in width and length, the bridge was outlined by consoles and displays, some showing various ship systems while others showing the status of the local space around them. The bridge itself was divided into two levels, with the highest point being at the elevator. It extended into the middle of the bridge, where the captain's seat was being occupied by Gibson. On either side, the floor sloped downwards to the bottom level, where all the crews worked and the majority of the important stations were present. To either side were doors – the right being the captain's room, while the left was the toilet. The position allowed for a good overview of the entire operation as well as keeping ship control tight. It was pretty much the standard layout for vessels cruiser sized and below. However, for corvettes and upwards, it differed greatly.

But the Iceni wasn't a corvette – it was a frigate, something more than a cruiser, definitely. It had several extra panels, including an XO's chair to the right-rear of the captain as well a station for Flight Control Officers to his left. The FCO's were supposed to act as auxiliaries to those stationed on destroyers; they were capable of controlling most fighter wings in the field, and had the ability to take over instantly and keep the situation cool.

Bosch on the other hand was anything but cool…he was fuming, almost raging. He stormed into the bridge and down the right. He bother to look at anyone, and instead, shouted to nobody in particular.

"Gibson! You, Sargo and Venson in my room, in FIVE minutes! Tell John and Sarno I want all wings on silent alert; and prepare the special line for usage. Dr. Ramayan, you come with me as well. All stations are to standby silent alert – set us on a course to the node!"

With that, he simply paced quickly into the room, nearly letting his rage take over, but Bosch controlled himself. He couldn't afford to loose control – especially not in front of his crew. He walked the length of the sparse room and took his seat at the table. He opened a drawer underneath the table when the door opened again, and the Doctor stepped through.

"Bosch…" the Doctor whispered.

"What?" he asked, the anger seething into voice.

"Don't do it..." Ramayan whispered.

Bosch looked at him and then stood up, banging his fist on the table, surprising even Ramayan. He had never been this angry before – not even in front of his family.

"And why shouldn't I! You _heard_ the emperor! That bastard's going to charge us all for _treason,_ and for what? Trying to save their puny little hides!"

_Now_ he had had it. He almost completely lost control, the frustration, the anger reading intolerable levels. Bosch was yelling almost, uncaring of whether he could be heard or not past the soundproofing in the door.

"I just spent the last god-damn fucking _year_ trying to get clearance to get onto that planet. I went from one end of the GTVA to the other – all for _their_ sake, not mine. We don't need much – just some fricking _data!_ And now they want to **CHARGE** us for _Treason?_ Not only that, they _dare_ to threaten me to take away this ship? This ship that I have spent _five_ years building?"

Bosch paused for a second, looking down. He clenched his fist in anger before looking right back up and continuing.

"I have gone too far, done too much and given up too much to let this stop here and now. Too much is at stake – and from what I can see, the Vasudans are going to stop at _nothing_ to make sure we don't step foot on that wreckage."

He reached down into the drawer and pulled out something. He stood at attention, turning around and examining it. It was a hat, black and of similar design to the official captain's hat he was wearing now…however, there were some key differences.

"I'm sorry Doctor, but the Vasudans have clearly shown to me that the GTVA is no longer trustable, leaving this as our only option."

The door chimed, indicating the others had arrived.

"Enter!" Bosch shouted. The doors opened, revealing Gibson, Sargo and Venson, who piled into the room as fast as they could. They stood at attention in front of the door, waiting for Bosch.

Bosch did not keep them waiting long however. He turned around, and placed the hat on the table. He noticed all of them tensing up when they saw the hat…they all knew what it meant…it was time.

"At ease, gentlemen. Before I continue, I will need a status update from each of your departments, and I need it now. Gibson, you go first."

Gibson nodded, standing at ease.

"All crew stations report ready for general quarters and combat. As far as they know, its just another drill. We've got all those who will…'remain'…. to separate sections of the ship, and near arms in the case something unexpected breaks out."

"Excellent. Deploy all those who aren't staying into the escape pod and send them on a course to the nearest system. We don't need any extra casualties today. Venson, how are the engines and the weapons?" Bosch replied, and then snapping his attention to Venson.

Venson nodded.

"She's running perfectly fine sir. The reactor's running smoothly, but this is her first actual trail, so I don't know exactly how much she can take. Weapons are ready at your disposal, and the SIF is ready for deployment on your command."

"Good work Venson. Sargo, how many wings do we have that will stay with us? And re-enforcements?"

Sargo cleared his throat before replying.

"Sir…its not good on that front. Only John's and Sarno's wings are ready. We've got a few ships outside the system at the other end of the node that are willing to help us, but once the crackers start to burst, I'd think that the GTVI will close the door, if you know what I mean. We'll need some way to secure a path from Deneb into Vega so that Koth can bring the Repulse in. However, we've got the GTC Rampart, the GVC Amenti the GVCv Anouke and the GTCv Golem patrolling the system right now. More are in Deneb and Capella at the moment, but we've got forces there that can deal with them. The closest forces are the _Majestic_, the _Impervious_, the _Belisarius_ and Koth's _Repulse_. All are on standby to aid us, but there is a good chance most of them will end up being too closely involved in the battle."

"I see…." Bosch replied. He looked down at the hat again and paused…now that he was more calm and able to concentrate, he considered his options…there had to be another way out of this; another way without bloodshed…without such violence…

He looked back up, realizing that there was no other way. He looked at each one of the men gathered. Each was ready to give up their lives for him…for his dream. Each knew exactly why he was doing this, and fortunately for him, there wasn't a better crew he could ask for to back him up.

"Gentlemen…first let me tell you, there is no finer crew that I can have at my side while I make this decision. Unfortunately, circumstances have proven to me that there is no other option but the one that I am forced to take now. But I don't need to drag all of you in it either – each one of you has family to consider, as well as what may happen to them should this go through. I want each and every one of you to think this through carefully. If you do not wish to be a part of this, do not berate yourself over it, or think any less of yourselves. You all are soldiers, but you are all also human. As your commanding officer, it is my duty to make sure to look after your welfare and your concerns. So if you have any problems with the plan, and wish to back out, say so now. I intend for each one of you to go and inform your departments as well as those crew who wish to come with me. Either choose now and go to the GTVA in peace, or stick along for the entire ride. There will be no turning back once the decision is made, is that understood?"

All the personnel nodded. They understood it quite clearly.

"Excellent…the Vasudans have made it clear that not only will they take me out, but most possibly will repossess this ship as well. We cannot allow such a thing to occur. Announce it on general quarters and immediately evacuate all the non-essential personnel. Prepare a channel to me, system-wide as well as throughout the GTVA. Then I want all of you to leave this room and disseminate the message…and then make your choice. You know where the escape pods are – they'll be open for the next ten minutes. After that, there will be no second chance, no going back. Dismissed."

All three nodded and returned back to attention. They saluted the Admiral and then left….except for the Doctor. He simply looked sadly at Bosch. Ramayan shook his head and spoke softly, as if pleading with Bosch.

"Bosch…don't do it…please…there has to be another way."

Bosch looked down, avoiding Ramayan's gaze.

"I wish there were Ramayan. But you were in the room with me – you heard what they said. There simply is no option."

"There _has_ to be. Don't you realize what you will be doing if you go ahead? Thousands could die – probably millions – and it would all be because of me….because of some stupid _data_ that we need to finish the project." He spat out the last word.

Bosch was at first silent…and then he slowly began to chuckle…and then laugh. This irritated Ramayan, who lashed out and shouted. "What's so funny? Does my predicament seem humorous to you?"

"You think they want to do this because of you, Doctor?" Bosch simply replied back, an evil smile on his face. Before the Doctor could reply though, he continued.

"The only people who know why this is really starting are you, me, and the three men that stepped in here. As far as everyone else is concerned though, there is a different reason."

He got up, walking towards the nearby window. He stopped, looking out at the blackness of space. He continued to speak all the while, not looking at the doctor.

"I haven't started anything, Doctor. What I am doing is merely pushing what is already there. The hatred for the Vasudans, the old scars that were left behind…they already existed. It is merely a matter of time before it builds up enough to explode. I have merely pushed it along…at least, with my influence, I can control it to a limited degree…soften its impact while such a thing is still possible…"

"Millions will still die, you can't deny that – you can't possibly _want_ that." Ramayan retorted.

Bosch looked at Ramayan, the features of his face changing to anger again.

"Ramayan…my _sister_ is on that station – my _sister_. You think I _want_ to attack her? My own flesh and blood? You think I _want_ to hurt her for some stupid data? Unless you've forgotten, what we have worked for here will save far more than the millions that will die from what is about to happen. I do this not because I want to harm her, but because if I don't, a lot of other brothers, sisters, parents, entire _families_ will _die_ when the Shivans return for us. It is this, or extinction, my friend, and unlike the Ancients that suffered that fate, what we are doing here today, will ensure that such a fate will not befall humanity, so don't you _dare_ tell me that I want this to happen. I know the monster that is going to be unleash upon humanity, but compared to the monster that now hunts us, I have little _choice_ in the matter."

The doctor took a step back, obviously not expecting this kind of an answer. Bosch pressed on, not stopping.

"The choice is now yours. Choose now doctor, for we cannot wait forever! If you think that it is a difficult decision to make, then realize that the one I made was even harder, and what I loose is _everything_!"

He looked at the Doctor, straight in the eye, before continuing.

"So choose, doctor. Either way, it is your decision to make – I can't force you to make it in anyway. I wish I could give you an eternity to decide, but sorry, I just can't. You have ten minutes, just like the rest of the men, just like the rest of this crew. Decide, Ramayan - do you wish to stay here and fight _for_ humanity, or do you wish to go back and fight _alongside_ the rest of it?"

The Doctor looked away, and out the window. He visibly gulped. Silence held the room for several minutes as both men stood there. Bosch did not move, did not once falter. He simply waited for Ramayan's reply. This was one man Bosch couldn't afford to loose, but this was also one man he could not force into staying. Everything he had said till was now was true – there was no way he could decide for the man.

Finally, after nearly two minutes. He spoke. His tone was soft, quite, conceding defeat.

"The greater good always wins…I will stay, Bosch. But you sure as hell better goddamn hope your quest is for real, cause either way you will have become a butcher of innocents."

With that, the Doctor simply turned around and walked out the door, not giving Bosch a chance to reply.


	15. Interlude 6

_**Interlude**_

_And so I gazed upon this gateway and wonder to myself; what drove this civilization to such heights; what drove this civilization to such oblivion? _

_Although our great journey was to begin, these thoughts filled my mind with uneasiness. As advanced as they were, what had caused them to disappear? What looming presence had driven them out? For indeed, such a civilization possessing such technology – not even the great destroyers would have been able to stop them. From what I had seen, the installation was abandoned to it's lonely fate in this insignificant corner of the universe. There was no great battle, no great conquest that killed its inhabitants. One day they were here...and the next day, they were gone. And I wondered then, as I do now, why did they go? Did they, too, embark upon a journey similar to ours? Driven by an undeniable urge to survive...or by something greater?  
_

_Such questions...to date, I have yet to find the answers...perhaps if I had only looked harder in the installation, I may have found it then, for many a secret still lie hidden within it's cavernous interior. There are some that exist in my realm alone, and are only mine to bear witness, while others can only be seen by those made of flesh and blood, and yet others I suspect, are meant only for the Great Destroyers, or other beings like them. Perhaps...perhaps it is one of these secrets that hold the key...holds the answer...but not it is too late to do little but to fret over false decisions; to regret untaken paths._

_All the heroes are gone; into the heart of the subspace corridor lying between us and the Great Destroyers. We would never see them again, for their fate was sealed; to forever play the role as matyrs in the great game of destiny. They would try their best to ensure we had the time to allow our plan to fruition, and for us to make our escape._

_As I recorded this, I was involved in the evacuation procedures itself, and was to command the mightiest ship left in our fleet. How such an honor could have been given to me...to this day, I do not comprehend the reason why I was chosen...why they trusted me so. Did I appear as something holy to them? It would have been partially true, at least, since I did arise in a time of great adversity, great strife, and I did offer them what they all desired so desperately: salvation._

_But then, isn't this something we all seek? In end, isn't it that what we all wish for? Salvation isn't just about entering heaven and living there; it is about putting one's woes to rest; the time that comes after the end of all wars when one recuperates and enjoys what one has fought so hard for; about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and to end the suffering that has plagued us through the life we have chosen to lead? Or is it something else entirely? Either way, I do not know, for such a fate seems to beyond my grasp, beyond my reach both now and then._

_Although I did not know why, nor did I desire the command, there was little time to debate the issue. Although the heroes would have given us the time required to accomplish the plan, it was not a confirmed guarantee. _

_Our plan was to be simple, but shockingly ironic. In a twist of fate, we had to commit an act upon ourselves something which we had inflicted to hundreds of other races before. Although we had seen it done before, and had been it's initiator, to actually do it ourselves...it was frightening, to say the least. If one good thing ever came out from such a tragedy; it was knowledge...knowledge of the suffering we had inflicted upon others, knowledge of what our sins had brought about, and knowledge of what must never be done again._

_This was not our last stand, it never would be. This act, and the horrors, fears and troubles it implies, can be summoned up in a simple word. A not-so innocent word by itself, its effect became worse in a situation like ours, for it had just merely started, and we would never see it's end ever again. _

_Quite simply...our Exodus had begun...and as I would soon find out...it would never end..._

_And so as we prepare to begin our great journey, I must leave this installation, to forever hang lonely amongst the stars. Perhaps, some day, another being will come upon it. Perhaps, this being would find out its innermost secrets, it's purpose of existence. Perhaps...this being would follow in our footsteps; forever repeating our own eternal exodus, our own eternal suffering..._

_Whoever that being may be, I can only wish it good luck._


	16. Chapter 9: The Bloody Costs of War

**Chapter 9**

_**The Bloody Costs of War**_

Bosch sighed, a sense of guilt washing over him. He turned, heading to the table. The doctor…he wasn't a soldier, he didn't understand. But Bosch couldn't blame him. After all, Ramayan had been taught primarily during his basic training the methods to uphold and save human lives, regardless of what happened. Bosch had been though the methods and means by which to destroy them for the sake of the majority; sacrificing the few for the many.

But as he sat down and contemplated the doctor's predicament, Bosch realized that his own problem was even worse now. He had to do something now that no other would – no, _could_ even comprehend. Sighing, Bosch leaned back in the chair, unsure how to proceed. This task…it had to be done. Everyone else was just waiting for him to push the button now. Had he been wrong? This monster he was about to unleash…how much power did he have over it? Did he have enough to stop it? Maybe here…maybe now…but in the future? Bosch knew well enough that once the dam of rage broke, and the hatred started to flow, there little that could actually stop it. And here we was, quite literally holding a bomb on top of that dam, ready to break it…with possibly his entire family in the town below.

Perhaps…perhaps there was another way to do this. Something that took less violence spilled less blood. He thought deeply, searching for some answer, some alternative to the situation at hand.

He found none.

There was no other way that he could see, no other way that he could accomplish this damning task.

Bosch sighed again, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. No use dragging it along - he may as well get it over it. Tapping some controls on the table, a small portion of the glass surface slid back, revealing a display that popped up from underneath it. On the screen, the face of the comms Officer came up.

"Connect me to the station immediately; tell them I am looking for Jessica Bosch."

The officer nodded and replied.

"One moment sir, the station computer is connecting the call."

"Thank you. Ensure that there is double encryption on this, and disable all recording functions."

"Acknowledged, sir. Jessica Bosch is now on the line, I am transferring you to her."

Bosch didn't respond as the screen went blank. It then came up again, revealing Jessica's face. Bosch didn't recognize the green background, but it appeared to be in some sort of room. Before she could say anything, he spoke. His tone was low, and had an undercurrent of sadness.

"Jessica, are you alone? I need five minutes to talk to you."

Hearing his tone, she frowned, leaning closer to the display.

"Yes, I am alone – not many people up here in the Radio tower - and I do have a few minutes to spare. What is it, brother? It sounds serious."

Bosch simply nodded slowly, the expression on his face a grave one.

"Yes, I am afraid so…"

He paused…unsure where to start.

"Well, get on with it then."

Bosch looked at her…she was adamant; impatient…he might as well get this over with.

"Jessica…this is something I have to tell you and you alone. Not even dad can hear of this, all right?"

Jessica simply nodded, her interest suddenly focused on the screen, and what Bosch had to say next.

"Thirty years ago, when the Shivans attacked Ross 128, our mother was injured in one of the transports as it left the system. She was taken down to a hospital down in Lamaris, where she died two days later."

Bosch paused…contemplating what to say next. Jessica seemed to get even more impatient, however.

"I already know that, Bosch. Get to the point already."

Bosch ignored her, continuing. He averted his gaze from the screen, looking out the window instead.

"What I…or you're farther never told you was that I was training at Lamaris at the time, along with the rest of my squadron. When I heard the news…I was given leave to go and see her for a few hours. Although she was severely injured…."

Bosch paused…he couldn't go on…but he needed to. He had started this, and he needed to end it now.

"…she was still alive; but barely. She was quite literally one the edge; holding on. Her body…my god…"

Bosch looked down, as if he could physically see it again.

"It wasn't there, Jessica, I don't know what to call it….she had lost so much, and yet she pulled through…and she could _speak._ She talked to me for several minutes when I was there. She said that she had been waiting for us…any of us, to come to her before she could die, just so that she could say goodbye and make me promise something to her..."

Bosch paused. A lump was forming in his throat – he couldn't continue. Jessica's face had turned pale. She had never heard any of this – the truth of what had happened. Bosch could imagine how hard this must be on her; to drag up the memories…but it still would be nothing compared to the bombshell he was going to drop next. He clenched his fists in an attempt to regain control. Bosch couldn't afford to give in to his emotions like that.

"She made me promise, for now and forever, that I would look after you, sister. That I would always be the big brother at your side. She made me promise to pick you up whenever you fell and be there when you needed it, till you grew up."

Bosch looked directly at her, into her eyes. Unwavering, he continued.

"And my god, you have grown up magnificently, Jessica. But now…now…I just want to say something. I know for a fact that you will never forgive me for this, and neither will she, but while I still have the chance..."

Bosch looked away; down at the hat on the table…he took off the GTVA hat that he was wearing. Looking at the symbol in front. It was a symbol that he had fought for, with, alongside – for over 30 years. He had given it his sweat, blood and tears…and now…he had the do the worst thing possible for it…he had to betray it.

"I joined the GTVA knowing that I would serve Earth proud, that I would serve _humanity_ to the end. I did it in the hopes of joining our Father in the glory and honor of this service."

Bosch placed the hat down on the table to his left. Calmly, slowly, he reached to his side for the other one, and picking it up, placed it on his head. He straightened it, briefly touching the symbol on it.

The symbol primarily consisted of a backward 'Z' superimposed on a small image of the Earth. The 'z' itself was divided into three parts – namely one stroke with the bottom dash, a central plain stroke and the last one with the dash on top. This, in turn, was superimposed on what appeared to be a grey color 'eye' shape, where the image of the Earth was the pupil. However, the planet was significantly larger than a pupil, but the similarity struck.

Bosch looked at Jessica in the midst of her confusion, her sadness. The full implication of what Bosch had just done hadn't hit her yet.

"What I want to say…need to say, Jessica, is sorry. I am sorry, to both you, and our mother…sorry that I couldn't keep her promise; _my_ promise…"

Bosch paused. Jessica was about to reply when he just shook his head, cutting her off.

"Don't say anything, sister…I still love you as a sister, as family. But my love for the rest of humanity must come first, and it is for their sake that I do this…I cannot ask you to forgive me; for I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself for this."

He looked at her, right in the eyes.

"I'm…I'm so sorry…" He tore his gaze away, slamming his hand on the control panel, cutting off the channel. Bosch took a breath, trying to control the sadness…the feeling of guilt that had nearly overwhelmed him just now…but at least….at the least, it was over.

He had gotten it done with, and no doubt, the rest of crew would be waiting for him…waiting for the announcement.

Then Bosch realized…it wasn't over…it had only started. What he had done now was basically burn his bridges back, in essence trapping him, leaving the only escape as the route forwards. He had merely closed a door behind him, and now, he had to go ahead and open another.

But he didn't want to. Burying his face into his hands, Bosch struggled to control himself. Every muscle, every moral fiber in his being kept him glued to the chair. Finally, after a full minute, he got up. Bosch wasn't sure what made him get up – he hadn't willed it, didn't _want_ it…but yet, here he was, standing and getting ready to leave the room. A sudden clarity seemed to blanket him, allowing him to think clearly. He knew what he had to do, and the fact that it needed to be done, regardless of whether he felt like it or not. He had already said what needed to be said to his family and gained his closure…in some senses; Bosch was now a free man…

But free men had choice…choice on where to go, what to do. Bosch wasn't a free man…he remembered what Ramayan had said earlier…

No…unfortunately, Bosch realized that the only way to succeed in his goal would mean stopping at nothing, and for nobody. If needed…yes, he would have to become a butcher of innocents. In the end, though, he prayed that it was all worth it…

Turning around the table, Bosch headed to the door. Just before it opened though, he sighed, and then stepped forwards.

When the doors opened and revealed the bridge, Bosch saw that all the personnel were gathered there…not only that, Each and every one of them had switched the hats and berets of the GTVA to one that had the same symbol that Bosch was wearing.

Gibson snapped to attention. Saluting, he shouted out loud.

"Admiral on the deck!"

Everyone else stopped what they were doing, and turned to Bosch. They, too, snapped to attention and then saluted Bosch.

Bosch paused, somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected _all_ of his crew to be there, like this. The only one not wearing the symbol was the Doctor, who stood off to one corner and was watching Bosch cautiously, but he too was standing at attention. Bosch felt…honored, revered almost, that everyone was so willing to back him like this.

Bosch stood at attention and returned the salute.

"At ease men…and thank you." Bosch replied, nodding, a small smile on his face.

Everyone stood at ease and returned to their duty stations. Gibson stepped forwards.

"Sir, everything's ready. We managed to hack into the local COMNet system, but we've so far only managed to get Audio transmission. We are ready to transmit on your order. Also, just to let you know, nobody has chosen to leave the ship, sir. For better or worse, they are all here."

Bosch nodded.

"Understood. Send my thanks to the crew."

He walked pass Gibson and towards the captain chair. Taking the seat, he turned to the large display up front. Gibson walked back to his own console.

Looking around, Bosch contemplated what he was going to say next… he hadn't prepared a speech as of yet, so he'd technically have to 'wing' it, as it were.

"All hands ready battle stations on my mark."

Pressing the intercom, he opened a line to engineering. He took the mic from the nearby holder and placed it on his ear and in front of his mouth.

"Engineering! Get the beam cannons ready for a cold start and prepare to cut all power to the engines when I tell you to. I want maximum power buildup to all batteries and heat sinks starting from now. I want them at a hundred percent so that we have emergency power when we need it, as well as overcharge to the beam cannons for a single, long burst."

"Aye sir! We'll get 'em ready." Came the reply. Before the channel cut, Bosch could hear Venson shouting orders to the rest of the engineering crew.

He turned the chair around to face Sargo, who was sitting at the FCO control panel.

"Order John and Sarno to get ready – get them to position themselves behind the other wings so that they have the advantage when we get going."

Bosch then turned to face Gibson.

"All right Gibson, before we get started we're going to need a way to get our forces in. What's the tactical situation like?"

Gibson nodded and cleared his throat.

"Well, the node to Vega is blockaded by a sentry network, as well as the _Amenti_, the _Anouke_ and the Rampart. The Golem, however, is patrolling the station and is ahead of us to our starboard. Current course is to the node, with the station to our rear port side. The sentry network will be a problem to take out even with our beam cannons. However, they are remotely controlled from the station. If we can take it out, then we may have a shot at letting our forces through unmolested."

Bosch looked at the screen. He could see the other cruisers and corvettes patrolling it, as well as the light gleaming off the nearly hundred sentry guns that surrounded it. It posed a problem for any ship cruiser sized or below and in the long run could end up even disabling a destroyer, if not damaging it. With the ships patrolling the node as it is, even the tiniest amount of damage could prove fatal.

"Understood. Which part of the station is controlling the network?"

When Bosch heard Gibson's reply though, his blood froze. It was as if he was speaking in slow motion, damning Bosch to hell, rather than answering his question.

_My god…not there…please…not there_ Bosch prayed, refusing to believe the answer. Was it not bad enough that fate had thrown the earlier problem at him…and now…this?

"Sir…?" Gibson asked, confused that Bosch hadn't responded. Bosch's face paled for a second. He turned to Gibson, and asked again.

"Gibson…which part of the station was it again?"

"The radio tower, sir. That's the part that is controlling the entire sentry network. If we can take it down, we may have a chance. Otherwise we may as well call this off – there is no way we can survive against two cruisers and two corvettes on our own out here."

So this was how fate played out…_karma_ Bosch thought to himself. He had forced Ramayan to make a choice…and now, he too was faced with that same choice – except this time the consequences were far more sinister and personal.

He nodded slowly, the features of his face returning to a more expressionless tone. He had to maintain professionalism here, especially in front of his crew.

"Understood, Gibson."

Bosch paused…and then realized…his decision had already been made for him.

Bosch turned to Reynolds and Terrick, who were at the lower-left tactical and centre navigational consoles respectively.

"Terrick, on my mark bring the Iceni thirty degrees to port, and cut the engines. Raynolds, at that time, I want you to over-power the starboard beam cannon as much as it can go without melting and fire it at the _Golem_ – I want to take out at least one of it's forward beam cannons before it can return fire. At the same time, I want you to use _exactly_ enough power to on the port cannon to _disable_ the Radio tower. It is _not_ to be destroyed _under any circumstances_, is that understood? If you require a second blast just to make sure then you can have one – but we only need to knock that tower out, not destroy it."

Both men nodded.

Bosch turned back to Gibson.

"Open the channel to the rest of the fleet. It's time."

Gibson nodded in reply.

"Channel open….now."

Bosch nodded. The channel would be scrambled, so they wouldn't be able to trace it immediately. He took a breath and spoke.

"To all those who may be listening in to this channel; I am here, today, to expose what many of you already know, what many of you already suspect and feel deep within your hearts.

Thirty years ago, we made an alliance with the Vasudans, bringing upon our civilizations a hope for peace, a chance at salvation against the Shivans. But I have seen, just like many others, that through their ignorance, disrespect and sheer _arrogance,_ they have served to do nothing but belittle the human race in the process. Thirty years ago, the Alliance promised us a better existence, a better life. The alliance has now _stalled_ that promise, only to satiate and keep the Vasudan's main interests first. They have turned a blind eye to the massive problems that plague us everyday, and then serve only to cover it up. We have given our sweat, toil and blood to the alliance – only to remain in poverty to this day! Lamaris, Deneb, Epsilon Pegasi and Capella are just examples of their work, and the mockery they make of us!

Twenty years ago we were prospering under the GTA, but ever since we lost contact, the Alliance has attempted to find a way back to Earth, billions – nay, _trillions_ of Credits and resources has been poured into it, and for what? _Nothing!_ The Alliance ignores the poor on the streets in the hopes of regaining the power and favor of the rich - the alliance has _failed_ what is left of humanity out here, in it's mad quest to regain a lost dream!

This is where I reach out my hand to you, _this_ my friends, is where I offer an alternative. Many of you have no doubt heard of a movement…a new foundation that has been forming amongst the ranks of the GTVA. The Alliance has held the power for the longest amount of time, and as we have seen, they have stagnated, leaving them vulnerable and allowing those who truly deserve that power – the people – to once again take it.

This new foundation shall move boldly where the Alliance has not dared to; where the alliance has not even bothered to consider. While they spend their resources at a futile and effortless dream, we can work together to bring about a new system, a new order. No longer do we need to go to Earth; for it is lost to us in the sands of time. No, now is the time for something else – a new world, a new Earth.

Now, my friends, is when _Neo-Terra_ shall arise. I call upon you, all of you, to join me in this dream, in this bold new plan. No longer shall the Vasudans hold the reigns of our civilization, no longer shall the alliance hold back the true power of the Human race. I call upon you to come to arms against the treacherous wrench that is the Vasudans, and to wipe them out from our influence.

For those of you willing to listen, and willing to join us, you know what needs to be done. I, Admiral Aken Bosch, Supreme Commander of the Neo-Terran Front, now stand before you, the citizens of the NTF, those whom have been watching and waiting for this moment…"

He paused to catch his breath. Bosch closed his eyes, mentally saying a small prayer before he continued, almost shouting.

"I ask upon you, the citizens and soldiers of Neo-Terra, to take up arms; to arise and to prepare for **war!**"

_On several worlds; in thousands of locations, hundreds of ships across the GTVA and even more cities and pubs, many people rose. Some shouted, cheering. Some instead took to their weapons, checking the safeties and prepared themselves for the conflict that was sure to come._

With that last sentence, Bosch nodded to Gibson and ordered him to cut the line. From the tactical station, Raynolds shouted out.

"Sir! The Golem and the other ships have targeted us, and are turning into attack vectors. IFF status change is in process. All stations are waiting for your orders."

Bosch nodded. Indeed, the war had truly begun and it was now time for him to take on his role at its helm. For better, or for worse.

_May God help us all._ He thought to himself.

The design of the Iceni was such that many, many people called it the 'Grasshopper' as it resembled one. The forward 'head' area was thick and round, unlike the smooth surface normally present on the Deimos. Two plasma cannons dotted the front of the head, while on either side was a massive beam cannon. The short neck was lined with turrets as well, some were standard plasma turrets while others were anti-fighter beam cannons and missile launchers. The body itself was box-like and thick. The edges changed to different angles, with the back being In a shallow ' ' shape. At the bottom of the Iceni was the second feature that gave it it's nickname: two engine pod hung from there much like the legs of a grasshopper, pushing the ship forwards. A slightly narrow extension went out from the centre box-like structure and to the rear engine complex. Unlike a Deimos or a Sobek, the engine complex here suggested great redundancy; with several smaller engines pushing the ship along as opposed to two large ones.

Overall, the ship had been designed for simple combat; capable of taking on either a single slightly larger ship, or several smaller ones.

And now, it was going take on both.

Bosch immediately leapt into action. He turned to the two in the front.

"Terrick, bring us about to port; Raynolds, do you have the targeting solution on the station and the Corvette?"

"Yes sir! Ready to fire on your command!" Raynolds replied. Terrick didn't reply though, he worked frantically at the controls, turning the warship to port. Bosch felt the turn and inertia pushing him to the right, but for the most part it was a minor problem.

"Wait till the end of the turn and prepare to fire!"

"Sir! The _Golem_ is powering up beam cannons! They will open fire in three seconds!" Gibson spoke out from behind him. From in front Terrick spoke as well.

"Turn complete – we're in position sir! Shutting off Engine power now!"

"Excellent, all cannons, _open fire!_"

From the starboard side of the Iceni, the beam turret began to charge, emitting at first, a small whitish glow. The glow began to grow in size, till it covered the entire beam cannon and the space around it. It kept on growing, till it finally stopped when it was around half the size of the head. It stayed there for a second, looking like an insect or bug crawling upon the surface of the hull. Finally, it lashed out across space, firing a green colored beam that arced across the vacuum and buried itself firmly into the smooth front of the Deimos class corvette. It continued to fire, staying like that for nearly five seconds, burying itself deeper and deeper into the ship's starboard beam cannon, causing a series of explosions that finally destroyed it. The corvette did not stand still either, it too returned fire with the other cannon – however, rather than simply focus on one point, it's beam slashed across the Iceni's hull, leaving a black trail on the armor plates and scarring the previously glistening armor.

On the other side of the Iceni, a beam cannon struck out, hitting the Arcadia installation near the top extension. The cannon barely did any visible damage – but it's effect was clear as the station's radio tower went black.

Onboard the bridge, the impact of the cannon shook the chairs slightly as the damage reports came in. Gibson read out the list from his station.

"Sir, engineering reports that we've lost two plasma turrets and a missile launcher to starboard. Hull integrity is at 95 and holding. The Golem's hull integrity is at 80. The shot appears to have gone through their entire beam array; their rear starboard beam cannon is out as well. We've got three wings of Myrmidon fighters inbound though!"

Bosch didn't look back. Instead he focused on the tactical display to the top right of the screen, as well as the sensor readings on the station itself.

_I hope you made it out in time, Jessica_. he thought to himself. A sick feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach, but Bosch buried it.. The other ships were moving to engage the Iceni. However, he observed that the sentry network was down.

"Understood! Sargo, get Sarno and John to change IFF immediately and re-designate them as Alpha and Beta wings. They are to engage all hostile fighters and clear our airspace." Bosch nodded.

"Raynolds, keep firing at the Golem when you get an opportunity, overcharge the port beam cannon and see if you can get another shot. Terrick, bring us 180 degrees port, we need to spread the damage otherwise that thing will chip us away! Engines on full burn! Gibson, tell the rest of the fleet that the area is clear! Get them in ASAP!"

They didn't respond, and instead got to work on the controls. The ship once again turned to port, and this time the inertial dampeners weren't able to keep up as fast, and everyone was swung to the right. Had it not been for the straps, Bosch would have most likely been thrown out of the chair.

The ship came about; the engines roaring to life and pushing it forwards and to the left – just in time as the beam cannons on the Deimos recharged and opened fire again, slashing the position where the Iceni had just been. However, she did not escape unscathed. Twin beams – this time gold in color – carved a path through the ship's armor. Tracing back the source, one could see it was from one of Vasudan ships that were standing guard near the node – the GVCv Anouke. The Sobek-class corvette had moved to engage the Iceni, with the other two cruisers remaining on guard around the node.

Bosch cursed as the bridge shook. This wasn't good at all. To his right, a console started to spark and then exploded. Fortunately, the crewmember that was there had gotten away in time.

"Damage report!" he shouted.

"Hull integrity at 80; we've lost another plasma turret. Minor damage reported to decks 18, 24 and 25 and the targeting system. The _Repulse_ and the _Belisarius_ are inbound – ETA 3 minutes!" Gibson replied from behind him.

Bosch cursed. There had to be another way to get this over with quickly.

He turned to Terrick.

"Terrick, continue the turn, bring us about to face the Corvette after the port turret has fired. Raynolds, see if you can't get a shot off at the _Anouke_ with the starboard first!"

Bosch then opened a line to engineering.

"Venson! Prepare to bring the SFI online – we're going to have to do a test run now."

A burst of static came over the channel before Bosch could hear Venson's reply.

"The main reactor's red-lining it as it is, sir, we can barely power the beam cannons on overcharge – it's either activate the SFI or the cannons – we can't have both running unless you want me to use the emergency power or divert away from the engines."

"Push the reactor harder then; we don't have a choice in the matter. After we fire the starboard cannon, shut it down and divert the power to the engines – we won't need it after this turn."

"Aye sir, we'll push it, but I don't know whether she can take anymore of this."

The line cut, but Bosch didn't worry much. Venson had built that reactor himself – he knew the ins and outs of it, and if anyone could accomplish this, it was him.

"Opening fire on the Anouke now!" Raynolds said from the left. Bosch could hear the high-pitched whine as the beam cannon powered up and then fired. He watched on the screen as the shot lanced out and hit the Anouke in the middle of a dive; hitting directly in the narrow mid-ship section that connected the head, the engine complex and the rear 'tail'. The beam only hit it for a second though, as the Iceni moved, it too moved through space, throwing it off the mark.

But it did the damage, leaving a dark scar where it buried itself through the slender warship's armour. The Anouke continued in it's dive, and then came up, attempting to attack the undefended belly of the Iceni. A fighter flew by past the camera, and then another, followed suit by the bright explosions of flak turrets tracing the enemy fighters.

"How are the fighters faring?" Bosch asked, turning to Sargo.

Sargo simply shook his head. "It's a stalemate sir – We've neutralized the three enemy wings, but we've got more inbound on the station. Alpha wing has sustained 2 fighter losses, while John is the only one left on Beta wing. The station may deploy their Perseus fighters – if they do, then John and Sarno may not be able to keep up in the Hercules."

He turned back to Gibson.

"Gibson, order Koth to deploy his entire fighter wings to assist us – we'll need as much backup as we can get against the station. Evacuate all the forward decks and put damage teams on standby for hull breaches"

Gibson shook his head and simply pointed to the screen.

"Both have already been done sir – we've got three friendly wings inbound. Gamma and Delta wings are making a run past the cruisers to help us, while Delta wing's bombers are attacking the _Amenti._ More are en-route."

Bosch nodded. That was some good news, at the least. He turned back to the Helm.

"Show me the _Golem_ on screen." The tactical display changed to the Golem. It was not facing directly at them, still presenting the strong bow to them. The bow started glowing again, before another beam struck out and slashed the Iceni, rocking the bridge with the force of it's impact. The Iceni was coming about to face the Deimos, bringing it's now overcharged port side beam into it's firing arcs.

"Raynolds, fire at will. Once the beam shuts off, take it off-line and divert all power to the engines." Bosch then began to tap co-ordinates into the small control panel in his chair.

"Terrick, I am sending you subspace entry and exit co-ordinates. Prepare to jump on my mark, and no sooner."

He then re-opened the line to Engineering.

"Venson! Activate the emergency power and feed it to the subspace drives. Keep the engines running as hard as you can."

"Say what? You want subspace drive, the SFI _and_ the engines? Heatsinks are past red line already! I can't push her anymore, Sir! If I do then I can promise we'll all be nothing but little peaces of debris!" Venson replied, shouting across the line.

"Then shut off all non-essential systems and re-direct power – inclusive of the life support systems. If we don't make it now, it'll be useless."

Venson sighed.

"Aye sir, redirecting power."

Bosch didn't close the line, but did mute it for now.

On the screen, Bosch saw the beam cannons fire again, leaping out directly at the _Golem_. The ship took the beam dead-on, to little effect. Bosch cursed – the beam retardant armor was good, perhaps too good. The forward cannon started to glow again and was about to fire.

"_Golem_ now at 60 hull integrity – her forward quarter has taken a lot of damage, but the beam cannon is still acti-" Gibson was interrupted as the entire ship suddenly _heaved,_ causing everyone to shout in alarm. Twin gold beams once against arced their way outside the external camera, firing in unison with the Deimos' own beam. One of the displays exploded outwards, injuring some of the crew.

Gibson started to shout out the damage report that came in.

"Hull integrity at 60 - damage to all decks! Hull breach on decks 14 and 25! We've lost half the port weapons array – starboard beam cannon is _offline!_ Port cannon is leaking deuterium particles!"

"Shut off the cannon completely! Terrick, bring us about – I want to go head on with that Corvette! Engineering, activate the Structural Integrity Field!"

Bosch looked at the Corvette on the screen, an evil gleam in his eye. This was action, this was combat – it coursed through his blood, his veins. Bosch pointed at the ship, shouting the next order out loud.

"All engines – _double burn!_ Bring us up to ramming speed!"

The engines went dark and silent for a second before coming back on at nearly twice the previous intensity. The bridge lights went dim and turned amber red to conserve power.

Outside, if one were to observe the Iceni – they would notice two things. The first and most obvious one would have been the fact that it shot forwards like a bullet, heading head-long into the Corvette ahead of it.

The second would have been the Iceni's head itself. Small pinpoints of light suddenly started to glow on the head itself. The glows began to grow larger and whiter, eventually spawning several small rays of light that shot off in various directions. The hulls itself seem to churn and writhe; much like a storm. Then the entire outer hull of the head instantaneously took flight – no longer a solid, it became nothing but superheated plasma that gave way to inertia, washing over the rest of the hull and leaving a white-hot trail behind the ship. The gases, gave way to reveal a strange super-structure underneath – a shallow, white-hot cone that glowed with a shade of red. Its tip was sharp, and appeared re-enforced to withstand tremendous impact. The head of the Iceni was now much shorter, with a majority of it forming the cone and the base.

This was the secret trump card that Bosch had held – what the GTVA never knew about. He had barely managed to sneak it into development, and now Bosch was glad that he did. The Iceni was the only ship in the entire fleet that was capable of ramming another and actually _get away_ with it intact. The re-enforced superstructure allowed it to withstand the tremendous amounts of kinetic energy that came with impact, while the cone itself was capable of burying itself deep into enemy warships. Worse still – it was superheated by all the burnt off plasma, meaning that once it got past the outer armor, it would cause hell with all internal decks.

A perhaps barbaric weapon, it was still Bosch's only option in this case.

Probably realizing this, the other captain started to immediately turn to starboard, bringing about his operational cannons at the Iceni, while firing the forward beam cannon in a vain attempt to stop the approaching ship's suicidal charge.

The Iceni rocked again as the beam cannon criss-crossed its way through the forward hull. Unfortunately for the enemy, it would only add to the heat of the cone.

Bosch watched as the ship came closer. This would be a perfect strike had it not been for the distance. They were still 4 seconds from impact and the enemy ship had already started to maneuver out of the way, even though their current velocity was nearly three times that of the Corvette. There was a good chance they could miss this almost entirely. Even if they hit – the beam cannon would tear them to shreds at that range.

Bosch checked the instruments and did a quick calculation of the ship's course. He nodded.

"Terrick, activate the subspace drive – take us in!"

The immediate response was the tearing open of a white-blue vortex directly ahead of the Iceni, occupying the space where the _Golem_ was just half a second ago. The Iceni plunged into the vortex, and the display ahead of them turned the familiar blue rotating tunnel that was subspace.

Still moving at the same speed, the Iceni hurtled through subspace. Bosch sent several co-ordinates to Terrick's console.

"Take out at these co-ordinates now."

Terrick nodded and did an emergency jump-out on the drive.

On the other side of the Golem, a white-blue vortex appeared just six hundred meters off the starboard brow. The ship had turned to maneuver starboard in an attempt to dodge Bosch…only to fall into the trap that he had set for them.

The Iceni exited subspace full-tilt at almost three hundred meters a second. The _Golem's_ crew had no time to respond as a million tons of metal hit the Corvette amid-ships, the forward cone cutting through the armor like a hot knife through butter.

The cone, propelled forwards by the rest of the ship, easily sliced through the exterior armor, and then burnt it's way through the interior, leaving a massive gaping hole in the side of the ship – one that was just the right size of the Iceni as it went through. Inertia kept the _Iceni_ moving forwards, all the way through the Corvette till, finally after what seemed like an eternity, the Cone appeared on the other side, breaking through the armor as if it was nothing. The entire corvette shattered into two; the parts closest to the middle of each section crumpled up by the force of the impact. The reactor cores started to detonate on the rear; starting off with a small series of explosions that grew in size till, finally, a massive explosion completely vaporized both sections.

The shockwaves and heat washed over the Iceni, sending it tumbling uncontrollably end-over-end.

On the bridge, Bosch briefly blacked out at the G-forces as the dampeners struggled to keep up. When he recovered though, he saw crewmembers sprawled all over the bridge – and there were apparently some casualties as well. The main display screen was offline, while several others on the side simply showed static. Shaking his head, Bosch turned to Gibson.

Gibson was recovering as well, shaking his head. A line of blood trickled down from his head, dripping onto the floor.

"Gibson, you all right?" Bosch asked, somewhat concerned. He was about to get off the chair and get the medkit when Gibson simply raised his hand and shook his head.

"I'll be fine." He replied, looking up at the display and wiping off some of the blood on it.

"Damage reports coming in….the reactor has taken too much damage and has shut down – auxiliary power is now online to the sensors. However, we've lost both beam cannons and all the flak turrets. Casualty reports are coming in – we've lost twelve men on some of the forward decks, while the med bay is dispatching medical teams to the bridge and other locations. Engines are online, but only barely. Engineering reports that the engines will take several minutes to fix at the least. Hull integrity is holding steady at 20, but we won't be able to take much more damage and last."

"Tell engineering they have two minutes. Status of the enemy?" Bosch asked.

"Bringing it up on screen now. Sarno and John have managed to take out one of the Anouke's primary beam cannons, however the corvette is moving to bring the other into position."

Bosch turned to look back at the main display. They had taken a lot more damage than expected. However, had he continued to stay and fight like he had before, they probably wouldn't be here to talk about it.

The tactical overlay came up along with the external camera. Bosch could see that the Corvette was approaching them – it was closing in to their position.

Bosch cursed. They were trying to get in a critical strike now that the Iceni was crippled.

"Terrick, get all power to the engines – move us away from that Corvette."

"Aye sir, moving away."

Bosch watched as it approached closer. They were deliberately holding their fire; waiting to come into range where their beam cannons would do the greatest amount of damage. The Iceni could only limp away at half power, only delaying the inevitable.

"Raynolds, open fire with what we have left – order the fighters to take out that beam cannon. If it fires at this range, we won't stand a chance!"

But it was too late – Bosch watched as the nose of the corvette began to glow a bright gold color.

It was about to fire when, suddenly, a massive green beam appeared out of nowhere; striking the ship at the base of the narrow extension and then coring it's way through, cutting off both ends of the ship.

The screen turned blank and the familiar face of Commodore Koth appeared, smiling.

"I heard that somebody here called for the cavalry?"

Bosch looked at Koth, deadpanned. He was silent for a full second.

"Commodore Koth…." He started.

"Yes, sir?" Koth asked, puzzled as to why the Admiral hadn't responded yet.

"Consider yourself promoted. Welcome to the ranks of Admiralty." Bosch continued, smiling.

Koth smiled, but then his bridge shook, causing him to frown.

"Sir, we've taken out the _Amenti_ and the _Anouke_ – this leaves the _Rampart_ as the only ship in the system. We are moving to engage it now."

Bosch shook his head. "Don't. All ships are to stand down now." He turned to Gibson.

"Get the captain of the _Rampart_ on the line."

With that, he turned to Admiral Koth, his expression a sad one.

"We've lost too many good men today, I'd rather have the body count down if I can help it, Commodore."

The screen split into half as the connection came in from the _Rampart._The captain's face showed up on the screen. He was frowning.

"What do you want, Bosch? My surrender? If so, I'm afraid all you are going to get is my beam cannon." He spat out, obviously vehement regarding the entire affair.

Bosch didn't take the bait.

"Not at all Captain. What I want is to give you a chance to leave the battle and retreat. You are outnumbered, outgunned and outclassed here – staying back would be guaranteed suicide."

"You want me to _what?_" The captain asked, somewhat surprised at what Bosch said.

"You heard me Captain. Too many lives have been lost here today and while I can extinguish yours in a few seconds, both you and I know that it would serve little purpose. Consider your options, captain – even if you do attack, you will inflict so little damage that it will not matter in the end."

"Maybe for _you._ I am not a coward Bosch, and I am not going to run from you."

Bosch sighed internally. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"You are courageous, Captain. And while I do not doubt you will give up your life for the GTVA, you have to consider that it will be a waste. Enough dead bodies are here as it is – all for naught. Consider the lives of your crew – would you want _them_ to go to such a waste as this?"

The Captain paused, thinking. Bosch pressed on.

"Take your losses, retreat and then get back to the GTVA. Leave now, so that you can fight another day, captain, for if you die here and now, I can guarantee that your crew's sacrifice will effect _nothing_"

This seemed to have caught the Captain's attention enough.

After a long moment of though, he finally spoke. The captain must have been smart – he realized that there really were no options here.

"Fine, Admiral, you win this round. We will retreat."

Before he cut the line though, the Commodore piped in with a last comment.

"You better hope that we never find you again, Captain, otherwise I will personally come and destroy your ship myself."

After the signal cut though, the small cruiser immediately leapt out into subspace, leaving the scene. Koth nodded from the screen.

"The area is secure sir. The station appears to have been abandoned – several escape pods have left it and jumped into subspace. We are launching boarding craft to take over the station. We now await your orders."

The station…Bosch remembered. He could only hope that Jessica had gone out in time…that she had escaped. He simply nodded at Koth.

"Understood. You have immediate control of the situation and battle zone. Bring us under tow and take us into Deneb – we'll need major repairs and refit to become battle worthy again."

Koth nodded and the screen went blank. He would take over command of coordinating the forces and the invasion.

Bosch removed the straps holding him to the seat and got up. He headed into the captain's room. Along the way, he passed by Ramayan, who simply stared at him as he went.

So this was how it all began…in bloodshed and irony.

From the looks of things though, it was probably how it was going to end as well.

**End Backflash**

_**Paradigm Shift**_

Raynolds stood stiff at attention. It was cold. Too damn cold. Of course, it wasn't as cold as it was before, but he cursed the weather nonetheless.

His face round and slightly chubby, Raynolds was undoubtedly the youngest member of the team. With a stocky build, he was probably the fattest too. At 5 feet 8 inches, he was arguably one of the shortest members of the team, not to mention the one least suited to this type of environment.

His brown eyes shone with cunning, a developing intelligence that had convinced Bosch to make him a member of his inner team. They also held within them a fire that had kept him loyal to the NTF, to the point of fanatism. But now, in the icy cold of the ring, that fire was slowly beginning to fade.

Born and raised in the desert regions of Delta Serpentis, Raynolds had grown up there with his family and had stayed there for nearly two decades before joining the GTVA and moving out. Although he had served on a variety of planets and ships, he had never gone to a world as cold as this one.

Still, he didn't let it get to him. After all, Bosch had managed to get through the cold – if barely – and he didn't have the environmental suit that Raynolds was wearing. It had been a miracle the old man had made it up; much less without much help. Where they went after that, though, was a mystery. But it wouldn't stay that way, since they were apparently all going to go inside soon.

Thinking about Bosch brought Raynold back to the matter at hand; could the man be trusted anymore? He personally didn't know how many of the others thought the same, but ever since their entry into the Nebula, Bosch had told them little, if anything at all. The only thing he kept on re-iterating was that this would be for the good of all humanity...he never once mentioned _how_ though.

Not once had Bosch mentioned to the men how his plans, how this accursedly cold ring would ever save humanity. Sure, the Shivans were helping them...but they had been helping only _them_ so far – God knows what they might have been doing back in GTVA space. For all they knew, the Shivans could be out there running rampant all around the GTVA and blowing up everything – maybe even the suns!

And now, his best friend was dead. The only person that had remotely been close to Raynold, Sarno was one of the best pilots that God had blessed upon the NTF. Capable of needling the eye of a Ganeymede installation with any ship – including the Ursa – Sarno had gotten the rest of them out of many tight spots. When the Vasudans had ambushed them and the Hinton, Sarno's wings were right alongside the Iceni, taking out enemy bombers and destroying beam cannons. Fortunately, they had caught the traitor that had tipped off the Vasudans. Last Raynold heard, the traitor was supposedly set up for extermination – whether it succeeded or not, however, Raynold had no idea.

The burial detail was over; Bosch had led it with honor and distinction, just as he had every other funeral detail so far. Yet, Raynolds could sense that Bosch had done this one differently...as if his guilt was too undeniable this time around. He looked at Bosch, who stood right in front of both the graves, his back to them. He was simply staring at the graves, as if unable to reconcile what had just happened. The entire platoon had gathered in formation behind him. Unsure what to do next, they had simply stood at attention for the moment, waiting for the Admiral's orders.

Finally, after a minute or two, Bosch looked down and sighed. He turned around to face the men. His expression was one of sadness, and quite easily racked with guilt. It was clear, though, that he had something to say. Clearing his throat, Bosch spoke.

"We came here today, each one of us, to honor and bury two of our colleagues, our comrades - as well as two of the greatest members of the Neo-Terran Front. They died in the line of duty, serving till the end. I knew both personally, and their losses will echo in our hearts and souls for all eternity."

Bosch paused.

"However, their sacrifice would be to avail, if I do not reveal the truth to you, here and now. Each one of you knew why I created the Neo-Terran front and when I abandoned it.I mentioned to each one of you, that for the survival of humanity, our future could no longer lie with the Vasudans, but with the Shivans. Although I do recognize that some of you may have doubts, understand that I do not intend to stop until I find the truth of such a thing myself – the truth that is not only hidden in this ring, but the one above. However..."

Internally, Raynolds frowned. They all knew this. Why was Bosch simply repeating all this? He was shocked, however, when Bosch continued.

"However, I must reveal that this entire thing, this entire journey has been nothing but a gamble from the start. I never firmly knew for a fact exactly what the Shivans wanted from the start. Both Ramayan and I only suspected their true purpose; their true identity. Our encounter and communication with them has debunked a lot of those theories; but it has re-enforced yet others. I do not have answers for any of you now, for everything now lies in the structure in the middle of this ring."

Raynolds was not only shocked, but he was absolutely fuming. How dare Bosch play around with them like this? He had quite literally used them in every sense of the word...and for what? _nothing!_

Bosch continued to speak, however, and Raynolds simply kept on listening, keeping his facial expressions steady.

"But what we have found out has indicated and confirmed one thing – the Vasudans cannot be trusted. Before us, they knew of the Ancients, and betrayed them. Humanity has no future with them, and from the efforts that they went to stop us, it appears this is the big secret that they were trying to keep. The Vasudans betrayed the ancients after several centuries of peace. Not only that, they took several of the ancient's ships, and attempted to use it against them. This was still the Shivans came for them, and wiped everything out. During the Great War, the Shivans came at Ross 128, most likely following a Vasudan squadron as it engaged our own. Since we met them, they not only brought death upon us, our parents, our planets, but they have also angered and brought forward the wraith of the Shivans – something that we have suffered as well."

Bosch paused. He took a moment to make eye contact with everyone first before continuing. He glanced up at the installation that revolved above them first though.

"Someone needs to warn the Terran Government about this, or else what we have fought for today will be for naught. As such, I want each and every one of you to decide now. Once we activate the teleporter and go up to the installation above us, there is a good chance we'll get the supplies we need, as well as a means of returning back to GTVA space via the Shivans. I have already asked too much of you, so know this: I will be going alone. None of you need to join me and can instead go back to terran space if you so desire – either way, if you wish to join me, it is entirely your decision."

Bosch paused, giving out a short sigh. Raynolds was fuming even more. Bosch…the goddamned fool! Didn't he know – didn't he realize what they had given up to be here? There was no home where they would be welcome, nowhere else for them to go, and now he wanted to just dump them back and go on his own? Raynold's anger grew as he realized just how much Bosch had used them, just how much a fool he had made them. Who had been in on the whole scheme anyway? Probably Gibson and Sargo, maybe even Ramayan. He only spoke to those three most of the time – perhaps he viewed the rest of them as mere baggage?

"You all are honorable men, the greatest members of Neo-Terra. Now on this ring, we are pretty much the last remnants of Neo-Terra. I cannot force you to continue it, however, without knowing the truth. Now each of you decide: If you wish to join me take one step forward. If you wish to go back, then stand where you are."

Raynolds already knew his decision. He didn't have any place to go back in GTVA space. But he sure as hell was not going with Bosch either. Bosch had used them all till now; and there was no way in hell Raynolds was going to let Bosch use him again.

He remained stock still where he was standing. He watched as, around him, Gibson, Sargo, John, and Venson took one step forward. Glancing to his right, though Raynolds saw that Terrick was standing still as well. He was frowning and his expression was one of anger and a bit of defiance as well. Glancing to his left, he saw that Dave hadn't moved from his spot just behind where Sargo was standing earlier. Gerald was standing right next to him as well. A total of four had decided to go with Bosch, with four going back. Tactically, at least the group that was going back had somewhat of an upper hand – Bosch would be a burden to them, so if things did get ugly, at least they had an advantage.

Bosch simply nodded at this.

"Very well then, I see you have decided. For those going with me, thank you. For those going back, thank you as well. Without any of you, there is a good chance that I would not standing here, or that any of us would have be alive. I thank you for your dedication and hard work – you have done not only Neo Terra proud, but all of humanity as well."

_You never said why they would be proud of us._ Raynolds thought to himself.

No matter, he would have his chance soon, and at least they would be getting out of his hell-hole for now.

"All right, everyone get your bags – let's move out." With that, the group dispersed to collect their bags. Around two minutes later, they all moved out.


	17. Chapter 10: A Mask of Tragedy

**Chapter 10**

_**A Mask of Tragedy**_

They were at the base of the structure around ten minutes later, and the entire group had stopped several feet ahead of them. The fog had cleared mostly, revealing the ancient structure in full. Raynolds glanced back at Terrick, who was behind him. Wondering why they had stopped, Raynolds was about to ask the nearest person – Gerald in this case – what was going on. Instead, as he approached, he saw where Gerald – and the rest of the team – was looking. Following the gaze, Raynolds took pause and tried to process what he was seeing.

On the side of the structure, at each of the floors going up, the doors had been closed the last time they had come here. Raynolds had distinctively remembered being denied permission to open those doors, despite the possibility of them containing supplies. They had left the doors as-is.

But now, all of the doors were open. It was too dark inside to see anything, but from the looks of it, something might have been in those rooms at one point of time. Raynolds thought he could see some white material reflecting the dim sunlight, but he couldn't exactly be sure.

From the front of the group, Bosch spoke up.

"This isn't a very good sign. When doors open up on their own, it means that either the place is haunted by ghosts, or some unknown mechanism is starting to activate. It's best we make top speed for the control chamber."

The others nodded. This was eerie, to say the least. With the howling of the wind gone, only a silence hung over the entire installation…much like an ancient graveyard. It was so quite, that Raynolds could swear he could hear his own heartbeat. The group slowly started to climb up the long flight of stairs.

Along the way, Raynolds glanced back at Terrick, who was struggling with the bag he was carrying. It contained all the tools they had used for digging the graves earlier, as well as some other trinkets. Raynolds stopped and turned around, he pointed at the bag and asked.

"Terrick – need to change bags? Its best not to keep the last member bogged down."

Terrick, for his part, simply shook his head. He pointed to one of the straps on the bag and shook his head, cursing.

"Nah…stupid strap refuses to stay on my shoulder for some reason – most likely shoddy workmanship I bet. I'll be allright." He indicated for Raynolds to continue on.

Raynold's didn't go on however, instead he waited for Terrick to right the bag. He turned around then and continued.

Glancing back, Raynolds spoke to Terrick softly, so that the others wouldn't hear.

"Er….Terrick, mind if I ask you a small question?"

Terrick looked up and nodded.

"Go ahead."

Raynolds glanced down to catch his step – he was now on the first level while the others had reached the second already.

"I hope you don't mind…but if you do go back, who are going to stay with? I don't think the GTVA are going to be very happy to see us back again."

Terrick paused and stopped in his tracks. He thought for a second, before glancing around a bit. Finally, he looked down and sighed. Looking back at Raynolds, he replied.

"I don't know Raynolds. Most likely, I'll end up going to my sister's place, if it's still standing. But there is a better chance of her throwing me out than anything else, especially after all we've done for _him._" Terrick spat out the last word with a burst of anger and rage. It was clear who he was referring to.

Raynolds sadly shook his head and replied in an equally angry tone.

"You're probably right…after what we've done in his name; I doubt anyone is going to accept us back anymore. And now he wants to abandon us? Get real!"

Terrick paused for a moment. He looked out at the field behind them before turning back and continuing the climb. As they climbed, they continued to talk.

"Yeah, but at least we got the Shivans at our back – at the very least, I bet they could prove we were right."

Terrick responded, wheezing a bit from the effort in carrying the bag. Raynolds glanced back, but continued nonetheless.

"Maybe…but Bosch still hasn't told us _how_ they are the key to saving humanity. Technically, we've already saved humanity – hell, as long as the Shivans stop attacking, everyone should be safe…"

He heard a slight _thunk_ sound from behind him, along with Terricks reply.

"Hold on a sec, just gotta adjust the strap again."

Raynolds was at the second level now. He leaned against the central structure to his left, not looking back. Instead, he looked up at the door and the others. Bosch and Gibson had already made it to the top, with the former working at the control panel. The others were at the level just above them, and some were sitting on the stairs and resting as they waited for the door to open. Raynolds continued to speak, looking down at the ground. He closed his eyes, thinking carefully as he spoke.

"That bastard, Bosch. All he thinks about is this mission for humanity. He still hasn't specified what needs to be done, or how he's going to go about doing it. For all we know, we could just be dooming everyone by pissing off the Shivans in some way or the other."

"Yeah, maybe. But we could just be pissing them off by not doing what they want." Terrick replied from behind him.

Raynolds looked up at Bosch and the others again, before continuing.

"Maybe…but still, I can't help but think that there is something that Bosch isn't telling us. And it's probably the fact that he doesn't know what to do either."

Raynolds paused. He continued, somewhat angrily. "You know what? I bet he doesn't have a damn clue about this entire operation either, and that he's guessing as well. Whatever is up at the installation will be his ticket out, and if it's not what he wants, I bet he's going to find some good excuse to get rid of us as well. What do you think, Terrick?"

There was no reply from behind him. Frowning, he simply shook his head and sighed. Closing his eyes for a second, he whirled around, speaking.

"Terrick – if you're having too much troub-"

He paused mid-sentence as he opened his eyes only to see…nothing.

Only the bag lay on the ground behind him, leaving no sign of where Terrick had gone to. Frowning, he called out, looking left and right for where Terrick might have gone.

"Terrick? Where the hell did you go?"

Walking down the steps, he reached the first level and looked around the structural piece there as well as on the other side. Still no sign of Terrick, however.

The others saw this and Gibson called out from the top, his voice echoing off the walls of the canyon. "Raynolds – what's going on? Where's Terrick?"

Raynolds just looked back up and shook his head. He shouted back, just as loud.

"I don't know – he just vanished! I can't find him anywhere!"

Gibson frowned again, and was about to reply when his eyes went wide in surprise. He shouted something at Raynolds, but the voice was drowned out by the sound of something landing very heavily behind him.

Whirling around, he looked around, trying to identify the source. Finally, he looked down and gasped. The shock forced him to take a step or two back. Lying in front of him was a body, covered almost entirely in blood and missing most it's limbs and it's head. The environmental suit had been breached and ripped apart in several locations by what appeared to be teeth marks. Then realization hit Raynolds like a kick to the gut: this was _Terrick's_ body – but how did it get to how it was...or more importantly, what dropped it behind him?

A low growl from above him answered the question. Raynolds slowly looked up at the source of the growl. Perched just above him on the divider between the sides of the staircase was _it._ What _it_ was, however, bore similarity to a myth, a legend from old human history, perhaps. It appeared to be a giant lizard, on a similar scale in size to a large dinosaur or such. However, this was no dinosaur.

The skin had a motley pattern of different shades of green, yellow and brown, and was almost entirely covered in small spikes and scales. The spikes seemed to be in significant prominence around the creature's eyes and around the triangular head. The body itself was huge and appeared heavily armored. Raynolds was surprised that it could even perch itself on the support without breaking it, or the small, thick hind legs upon which it rested. The forward arms were short, yet thick and muscular, ending in hands that held an opposable thumb and four fingers worth of incredibly sharp and incredibly dangerous claws. On the back were two massive wings that slowly unfurled themselves, stretching out for several meters. From the other side of the barrier, a long tail appeared. What was most shocking, however, was the blood all over the mouth and the teeth. An arm stuck out from the side of the mouth, still encased in its environmental suit, and as Raynolds watch, the thing took it in, biting the suit and cracking it open easily.

It stared at him with bright green eyes that seemed to shine much like a jewel would. The eyes seemed to drill holes into his head with a burning glare, one that prevented him from looking away. The calls of the other members seemed to disappear as he continued to stare into the eyes; it's pull seemingly unbreakable. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Raynolds took another step back and then blinked.

In that one blink, the world disappeared around Raynolds. He was no longer on the ring, or indeed, anywhere near the structure he stood on just a fraction of a second ago. The world here was far, far different. He was standing in the middle of a tiled courtyard, around a hundred meters long and several meters wide. To his left was a stairway leading to another smaller courtyard that was a little ways below this one. Surrounding this courtyard were several very tall, very high structures – each with significant windows, and more surprisingly, he could see _people_ in those windows. He instantly recognized them as apartment complexes; albeit, significantly old fashioned ones. He'd seen them in history books – such structures were only seen on Earth, and even then apartment complexes like these were rare, not to mention were torn down several years before the subspace jump collapsed. They had been replaced with the standard light-plate alloy that made up of most of the GTVA's structures.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a loud tapping sound coming from nearby. It was constant, repetitive...as if someone was typing away. Looking around, Raynolds traced the sound and found where it was coming from: there was somebody nearby. The person was male, and was seated in what appeared to be a small patio or the like that was in the garden. The person was around a dozen or so meters away, and appeared to be typing furiously away at something. He didn't turn or look back at Raynolds.

Deciding that standing around would do him nothing, Raynolds took a step forward and tried to say something, only to find that he couldn't move his feet at all. Looking down, Raynolds saw in shock and horror that his feet had disappeared into a black void that slowly rose up. He could still feel them, oddly, but it was just that he couldn't move them an inch. He looked up again, only to find that the surroundings had changed once again. This time he was in a dark room. It was small, and completely plain. To one side was a small bunk, and to another a small toilet. He recognized it immediately as a jail cell of sorts...but _whose_.

_That of the creations, of course_

He whirled around in surprise, unsure where the voice had come from. There was nobody behind or around him.

"Who are you!" he shouted out, looking around for a possible source, or speakers.

_Such ignorance...it is...amusing. Typical, of a creation_.

The voice spoke out again. This time, Raynolds could trace it; it came from outside the cell door. There was a small window built into the door, where food was passed through it. The window was open now, but all Raynolds could see past it was a black mist. The low light in the room wasn't enough to penetrate the darkness beyond...yet, he could make out a figure in the darkness. It was moving towards him, slowly, steadily. Against, the voice spoke.

_The important question is never always _who_...but _why.

The figure was at the end of the myst now, and Raynolds could almost make it out. It was definitely humanoid. He blinked, trying to focus on it. But within that blink, the environment once again changed. This time, the cell was gone, leaving only the black myst surrounding him.

Suddenly, a massive force hit him in the front, pushing him backwards several feet. The scene changed again, this time back to where he had just been. Something flew over him, blocking the sky and the installation above them, but he couldn't exactly make out what it was, and within a second, it was gone. The voice lingered on however, leaving him with a parting sentence.

_We are but his creations, just like you are...but soon, the tragedy in which he masks our fate will be removed, and the guilty shall suffer for their sins._

With that, the voice faded away, leaving him with short of breath and laying on the ground. He could hear voices nearby – that of Gibson and Sargo. They were shouting something, but Raynolds couldn't understand it.His hearing his was muddled up. He blinked, trying to catch his breath.

When he opened his eyes, though, the lizard thing was directly above him and staring right at him again.

Raynolds cursed, and immediately tried to scramble up. The creature opened it's mouth, revealing something shocking between it's crooked teeth. Terrick's head was still caught there, staring down at Raynolds with an expression of horror and pain.

Time slowed down, and the creature moved to swat Raynolds with it's upper limbs, when, out of nowhere salvation came.

Actually, that was somewhat of an overstatement. What actually came was a pickaxe. It rotated in it's journey through the air, and lodged itself straight into the creature's right eye, causing it to roar in pain and miss Raynolds completely.

Looking at it's source, Raynolds could see Gibson and Venson picking up several tools from their bags, preparing to throw it at the creature. He could hear what they were saying now. They were both shouting at him to run to them now.

And he did. Raynolds got off the ground and began to run up the stairs. He was on the second level, and had only two more to go before he reached Gibson. For their part, both the pair threw whatever they could at the creature to distract it.

Raynolds turned left at the beginning of the next level, ducking past the barrier and leaving it between him and the creature. Just as he crossed the threshold, however, the creature crashed into the structure behind him, collapsing the wall section and breaking it. It roared in pain, nearly deafening him. The debris pelted his back and his legs, causing him to slip and nearly fall face-first onto the stairs. He managed to recover, however, and continued to run up as fast as he could.

But niether Gibson and Sargo were up on the top floor. Instead, he saw both their backs as they were moving away from him and into the hallway. He glanced back, and then realized why. In the sky behind him, where _dozens_ of the things, all flying to their location, and all more than likely hell-bent in killing them all. Then he looked back up at the platform...and saw _him._

Bosch was looking up at the creatures as well, before he then turned his gaze downwards at Raynolds, standing stiffly at attention. He had a somewhat sad expression on his face, and simply shook his head. Behind him, Raynolds could see that the doorway was slowly closing shut.

It was only then he realized what Bosch had done, and was doing. He had ordered the other two in, and was closing the doorway. But at this rate, Raynolds wouldn't be able to make it in time.

Bosch was leaving him out here – out here to die.

_No._ He wasn't allowing that to happen – not after what he had to go through! And those things...that voice.

They met eye contact for a second, and it only confirmed what Raynolds had feared. Bosch then turned around and headed for the doorway.

Using all of his strength, Raynolds ran up the stairways, not even stopping for a breath. He ran up the staircase, not caring of what was behind him. He could feel the creature there somewhat, but it was still recovering from the impact against the wall. However, it would be after him again within a few seconds.

He ran up to the third floor, and changed sides again, in an attempt to dodge the thing. He could hear a loud roar from behind him as it recovered and began the chase again. There was one last flight of stairs to go before he made it up, however. Raynolds took a breath and didn't stop. He ran all the way up the stairs, making a new personal record for himself. He didn't know what made him run up that fast, or how he managed it – it must have been the adrenaline just then. Either way, a few seconds later, he found himself at the edge of the platform, witnessing the massive doors slowly closing ahead of him.

But his speed had paid off – there was still some space left in the centre of the door, near the bottom. He ran forwards as fast as he could, hoping to make it before it either closed, or closed before he was all the way through. The world slowed down as a second adrenaline rushed through his veins.

It was going to be close – but he had a shot at making it! When Raynolds was around a meter out, he leapt through the air – the door still had around a half a meter wide gap, and it was closing really slow. He was going to make it! A feeling of joy went through him as he flew through the air – nothing was going to stop him – not that stupid creature, not Bosch.

And then, the door suddenly sped up as the mechanism locked it to place, closing it completely. Raynolds only had time to bring down his head and lower the tumble before slamming into the door at full speed. He cried in pain as he hit it, crumpling it and falling to the ground.

A second later, however, he staggered back up, pounding away at the door. He shouted, hoping that someone would hear on the other side.

"God damn you, Bosch! Open this door, open it now! I'm right here, damnit!"

Then he heard a low growl from behind him. It was the same one as before. Turning around, he saw the thing had landed behind him, and it was now slowly moving towards him. But it moved too slow...as if it was just approaching him, before it then stepped to the side. Behind it, Raynolds could see the other creatures had landed at the bottom of the structure, and were working their way up. He tried looking around for a weapon, something – anything to help him against that thing. If he was going to die, then he may as well do it fighting.

_You may try to fight...but know that your fate is not to die._

That voice...Raynolds recognized it immediately. It came from the stairs, slowly revealing itself as it climbed upwards. He moved back in horror, as he saw what it truly was. As it approached him, he tried to ward it off, reaching for a shovel that lay on the ground.

But the Shovel somehow moved out of his reach, as if with a will of it's own. He took a step back away from it, surprised at what had just happened. He looked back at the thing that had just come up the stairs; but had one been there to see the reflection in his eyes, they would have seen nothing. Indeed, if anyone else had been there, they would have seen nothing. Yet, Raynolds saw it. And as it approached, he let out a ear-pitching scream that shattered the silence of the canyon as it spoke to him, slowly, silently.

_Our fates are connected, for death will claim neither of us...but it can claim him. Our struggle will go on beyond this ring, at last. Many worlds await our return, but they will have to wait till we have served our revenge_.

Bosch glanced back as he heard something thump at the door, just after it slammed shut. He paused, considering what he had just done. Raynolds had been too far, too injured to make it back in time before one of those creatures attempted to keep the door open.

He considered the creatures for a moment. Had they been gaurdians left behind by the Ancients? Or were they merely creatures that had evolved in this eco-system? In either case, they bore extre

Bosch paused, turning half-way to the door to look at it. He looked at it in grim sadness, a twinge of guilt nagging his mind at what he had just done. Of course, it was justified. Sacrificing the few for the many, the dying for the living. Yet...yet why did he feel that the decision he had made was a mistake.

He turned back to the rest, whom were already heading towards the elevator. Gibson had stopped half-way to make sure Bosch was following. He stared at Bosch with a hard glare, and one could easily see that he was not pleased at what happened either.

Bosch's expressions hardened, and his mind came to rest. He had done what was necessary, nothing more, nothing less. If he let such things get to him now, then the objective would never be complete.

With as much steadiness he could muster, Bosch turned away from the door and began to walk towards the lift at the end of the corridor. Gibson took up formation right behind him as those on the elevator cleared some space to let him through.

He counted the heads. Raynolds and Terrick had fallen to the creatures. Sarno and Ramayan had both perished in the crash onto the ring.

That left only him, Gibson, Sargo, Venson, Carlos, Gerald, Dave and John.

Eight survivors, out of the many million NTF soldiers, citizens and crew that had served to bring them here. In essence, humanity's fate indirectly rested on their shoulders now.

He only prayed that he didn't loose anymore.

Walking onto the lift, he looked around at the faces gathered. Nearly all were looking towards the door. He himself glanced at the door for a minute, out of respect – and regret – for what he had just done.

Then he looked back down at the control panel, and adjusted the controls. The lift began to slowly descend into the darkness below.

But as they were doing so, Bosch noticed something, or rather heard it. It was a large banging, coming from the door. The last thing he saw before the lift went below the floor was the impression of a fist, or something in the door as it beat at the metal, pushing it in.

But then they were gone, the lift speeding up as it went toward the bottom.

When they hit the bottom, everyone piled out of the elevator and into the blue corridor. The lights were still on, and so were the symbols and pictures.

As they walked down the corridors, a few of the men stopped to examine the pictures, especially the one of the Vasudan. But Bosch and Gibson both prodded them along, moving them down the corridor and towards the end.

When the doors opened up, they all looked around at the canyon. Unlike last time, Bosch noted that the wind wasn't very much – not more than a pleasently light breeze, actually. Stepping out, he did notice, however, that the light bridge had switched off by default.

Frowning, he nodded to the others to follow as he moved towards the control panel. He reset the bridge controls, and within a second the bridge came up.

"Come on, let's go before it resets itself." Bosch said to Gibson and the others, indicating for them to get on. Most of the men stepped onto the bridge rather trepidly and carefully, not trusting it's integrity.

But once they were on, the group began to march off again, heading towards the other end. They moved in silence, not a single person talking about anything. The silence continued, oppressing Bosch. Not even the breeze did anything to break it, and the sounds of their footsteps echoing on the bridge was their only company.

When he reached the other end, Bosch was the first person on, somewhat glad to finally step foot on solid ground. He swore that if it weren't for the fact that his arm was in a cast, he'd kneel down and kiss the ground.

Looking around, he saw Gibson, Venson and Sargo step off the bridge and onto the ground. Behind them, Gerald and Dave were about to get off, with Carlos and John right behind them.

Then it happened.

Bosch didn't know which he heard first, the shout of surprise, or the explosion.

The Emmitors for the bridge that were embedded into the cliff on the other side sparked and exploded, setting off a chain reaction that ripped through the entire chain upto where the men had been walking. The bridge underneath Carlos and John immediately vanished, and they plummeted almost immediately into the chasm below, screaming as they vanished into the darkness.

The section near the other two, however, lasted for a second longer – just enough for both to leap at the ledge. The bridge disappeared before they could make contact though, and Dave was unable to reach the ledge, leaving him flailing for any reach on the cliff wall, to no avail, and he, too disappeared into the abyss.

That was when Bosch saw where Gibson was.

"For the love of god, whomever is up there, don't let go of my legs! Pull us up, pull us up now!" Gibson shouted up at the others as he hung off the cliff by his boots. Behind him, Venson and Sargo had already grabbed onto his legs, lying near the cliff edge. It was a very precarious position, to say the least.

Looking back down, he saw Gerald, who was barely hanging on. His right hand was clasped firmly to both of Gibson's. He looked down at the abyss below, and then back up to the others.

"Hold on! We'll pull you up." Sargo shouted from behind Gibson. But they didn't move at all. Instead, Gibson slipped down _further._

Then he realized in shock and horror what must have been happening. The snow had melted, turning the entire ledge and cliff face into ice. Although both Sargo and Venson were strong enough to pull them up, with no grip, there was an equally good chance they would all fall off.

But still, they couldn't give up.

"Bosch, grab my leg if you can and pull, help us up!" Venson shouted.

"Already there, I'm doing my best!" the response came back. Gibson looked down at Gerald and only shook his head.

"hold on...it'll be all right."

But Gerald wasn't looking down, nor was he looking at the others. He was staring right at Gibson a rather sad expression on his face. He had seen the others slip, and he knew what was happening.

"Gibson..." he whispered.

"Just hold on, Gerald. I'm not about to loose you too."

Suddenly, they slipped even further, dropping several inches. A pile of slush flew past Gerald's head, barely missing him.

"The ice is melting too fast! I can't get a proper grip!" Bosch's reply came. There was some tugging however, and Gibson realized that what he was saying was probably true. He could feel them struggling to pull both back. However, the weight was simply too much for the ledge to handle.

"Let me go, Gibson."

"_No!_ I am _Not_ about to loose another man. We've already lost too many."

"You'll all die if you don't let me go, and it'll be to waste." Gerald spoke. Oddly, his voice was calm, relaxed. Almost as if...

"Gibson, just let me go..." Gerald whispered again.

"_No!"_ Gibson frowned, concentrating harder. He looked to see if he couldn't swing over to the wall and grab a foot or hand-hold. No such luck. The wall was covered with ice and extremely smooth. Besides, that idea hadn't exactly worked for John either.

"Then I will just have to let go myself." Gerald said.

With that, Gerald's grip on Gibson's hands released itself, letting go. Desperately, Gibson tried to reach out again and grab him again, only to fail.

"No!" he shouted as he watch Gerald plummet to the darkness below, his hand outstretched up and looking at Gibson in the eye.

"NO!" he shouted again, as Sargo and Venson finally got a grip as the weight was far less, and pulled Gibson up.

Gibson fell onto the snow, and sighed, closing his eyes. Within a minute, they had just lost half of their remaining team. He finally opened his eyes, and looked on as Bosch got up from where he was helping to Sargo and Venson, both of whom looked down the canyon after their fallen comrades.

Bosch's expressions were still as stern and steady as ever. But Gibson could see the quiver on his face, the shaking in his hands. He knew that Bosch too had been hit by what happened. Yet, the man was somehow not letting it get to him. Almost as if...

Gibson's eyes narrowed for a second as he looked at Bosch and asked.

"What happened there? Why did the bridge explode?"

Bosch simply shrugged. "No clue. I entered the exact same settings as before. The system's old, something must have malfunctioned, I guess."

Gibson couldn't quite put it down, but there was something in the _way_ Bosch said that last sentence that bugged him. Yet, it was a good excuse. This ring was old, that much was for sure.

Bosch turned to Sargo and Venson, before glancing at Gibson and then continuing.

"We have to keep moving. If we stay here any longer, we have no idea when those creatures might just fly in. Secure the ETAK and lets move." Bosch nodded at the bag which contained the ETAK. It had been thrown aside as the group had tried to frantically rescue Gerald. Gibson headed to it and picked it up.

Within the minute, the entire group was inside the doorway leading to the capsule chamber. Gibson was the last one to go in. He stared at the cliff for a few seconds, before turning around and walking into the chamber. The doors closed shut behind him shutting off from his view the place where he had seen his friends all die. He vowed to come back here one day, and set up a proper grave, but sadly, fate would see that he never got to fulfill that promise.

They entered the chamber wordlessly, Bosch at the helm. Within a minute, the door was closed, and the entire chamber began to move, much like before.

It caught Sargo and Venson off guard as it plunged downwards into the water, but both Gibson and Bosch had braced themselves by now.

As they began to move, Bosch sat down to one side, near the console. It was going to be a long trip, and he needed to conserve his energy. His stomach began to growl from hunger as he realized it had been a long time since he had eaten.

But there was little they could do about it. Bosch had placed all his eggs in this one basket, and unless they could find supplies on the station above, they were pretty much doomed to a rather painful death from starvation. Not even the Shivans would be able to help them – the trip here had taken many days, and by the time they returned back, they'd be nothing but frozen corpses.

As bleak as the situation looked, Bosch couldn't help but think of what good would come out of this. The station, the ring – it _had_ to add up someway. But _how?_ The answer plagued his mind. He could feel there was a connection here, some explanation – indeed; there was one, albeit on the installation that hovered at the center of this ring.

No matter...he would be patient. They would find their answers soon, if nothing else.

The trip went on in silence as Bosch watched the waters outside. Occasionally, some of that large fish would come and watch them throughout the trip – one even tried to attack them, bumping slightly against the capsule, but was driven away when the lasers increased their intensity.

Bosch couldn't explain it, but there was something about those fish that simply felt..._odd._ The way they behaved, and more importantly, the way their eyes looked at the men. It wasn't the look a normal predator would give to it's prey...Bosch could've sworn he was hallucinating when he saw it, but it just _seemed_ that way, and it seemed to obvious to be anything else. When he looked in those eyes, they did not betray any sign of intelligence, or anything else...yet, at the same time, they betrayed one thing that was present only in a sentient being: _hatred._

Before Bosch could study it any further, however, the creature moved off, and vanished into the darkness, leaving behind a very perplexed and confused Admiral in it's wake.

Several minutes later, the group tepidly entered the control center. The bridge was still operational, but the others looked at it wearily, unsure if they could trust it or not. But still, they followed Bosch across the bridge, not saying a word about it.

When they approached the centre console, Bosch noticed something blinking on one of the side screens. It was far, far different than before. Moving towards it, he tried to translate the words, struggling with the dialect and language. But when he saw it, he simply shook his head.

"What is it?"

Gibson asked from behind him, keeping watch towards the entrance and bridge as the others kept an eye out towards the other directions. Standard perimeter. Next to where Gibson was standing, Bosch noticed the rather large bag that held the ETAK device.

"Someone switched on the security system, releasing the creatures we saw earlier...the question however, is _who_ did it."

Gibson didn't turn around as he replied.

"So you think we're not alone on the ring?"

Bosch simply shook his head as he studied the various symbols as they scrolled across the screen.

"Yes and no. Whomever it was had inside access to the ring's system. Meaning they were left behind. But whoever it is has to either be very, very determined to survive several thousand years or..."

"...is a ghost?" Venson asked from the side.

"Don't be ridiculous Venson. There's no such thing as ghosts. We have no clue about the ancient's biology, for all we know; they could have incredibly long life spans."

Bosch replied. But internally, he shuddered. The thought of a ghost didn't scare him much, really. He was too structured to believe in them himself. But still, _someone_ with access to all the systems had managed to activate it, and attack them indirectly. Even if there weren't any real ghosts, could it possibly have been an AI? A ghost in the machine, so to speak.

Bosch didn't want to know. He pushed the thoughts aside. This development only increased the need to get out of here, _now_.

Checking to make sure they were all here, Bosch hesitated as he looked at the console and displays. He had absolutely no idea how this technology worked, or whether it was still in working order. But still, given the alternative was simply stay here and starve to death, it was their only option.

Raising his hands, he moved them across the screen, touching various symbols and moving them about. Bosch did this slowly, carefully, reading each symbol carefully so as to not mis-interpret it's meaning, lest kill them all during transport. To say it was easy would have been an utter lie as he fought to understand the meaning behind what was written, and the description of the various controls for the system. He recognized the basic controls, like mass, distance and possibly destination. Fortunately, the last two were already pre-programmed in, meaning they only needed to enter the other value.

But Bosch didn't know the exact mass value, and instead employed the built-in sensors to judge. After a few moments of scanning, Bosch felt a tingling sensation as suddenly, several gold rings formed around him and everyone else in the group, holding them in place as they encircled the bodies.

The world phased completely as the control room disappeared around them; only to leave blackness around them. He could hear a faint buzzing sound and some gargled voices in the background as they floated, suspended in mid-air for several seconds. He couldn't see a thing past the rings, nor could he breathe or even move. Yet, he did not feel the need to breathe. This was incredibly unnerving, and Bosch tried to say something or shout out – anything to try and remove the darkness around them, but it was little use as he couldn't even move his jaw.

The tingling sensation remained...and then, as suddenly as it had come, vanished. The gold rings then left off, releasing it's hold on them...only to drop into a large, grey and very dusty corridor. Bosch cried out as gravity took hold and he plummeted to the floor, dashing his wounded arm against the floor.

A flash of plain went through his mind, but then was immediately gone. Looking up, he saw the others were with them – and more importantly so was the ETAK device.

"What happened?" Sargo asked from Bosch's left side.

"The system kicked in automatically after scanning us." Bosch replied, his tone calm and steady. Sitting up, he looked around.

The room they were in was completely square, barely taller than they were, forcing some of the taller members to hunch down a bit as they stood. They were standing on a small platform in the centre with barely enough room to hold all of them. To one side, Bosch noticed a set of doors.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice spoke, startling all of them. It was female, speaking with a soft, gentle tone that was somewhat comforting. But more importantly: it spoke in Standard English.

"Species genomic and temporal scan complete; species identified as Human. Primary interface protocols adaptation complete."

"What in the name of -" Venson didn't have a chance to finish as the voice continued on, ignoring them.

"Temporal scan of current species-wide status underway, please wait. Scan complete, current species governmental body is Galactic Terran-Vasudan Alliance, currently allied to Vasudans, recovering from recent Shivan containment effort. DNA match to GTVA database confirmed to Aken Bosch, Sean H. Gibson, Simmons H. Venson, Joseph Sargo. Equipment scans complete, quantum class J-type communications device detected, executing Objective S Protocol. A.I. Construct awakening sequence in progress, please wait."

"Bosch, what's going on? I don't like the sound of this one bit." Gibson said, helping Bosch up.

Bosch only shook his head. He really, really wished he had a clue as to what was going on, but the details of the situation was staggering, to say the least. Judging from what the voice had said, within ten seconds this gateway not only scanned them and adjusted it's interface and entire structure to suit their species, but had also scanned the status of their entire species and confirmed their identities against the _GTVA's_ database.

Indeed, it was a question that even he asked as he thought _What the hell is going on here?_ It was pretty clear that they were on the installation – no, make that the Gateway.

A wave of giddiness struck Bosch as he realized the full implications of the situation as it stood, as well as the technology involved.

Gibson caught him, his face having a somewhat concerned expression.

"Bosch? You all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right. I just realized...if this is a gateway, then that means the ancients -"

he never got a chance to finish the sentence as, suddenly, several sections of the wall _changed._ He couldn't describe it exactly -for it seemed that at one moment the walls around were simply plain, metallic, and then the next, several openings appeared, and at what looked like dozens upon dozens of turrets appeared from these opening, each one aiming at them.

"Oh _crap!_" Sargo shouted out from the side, as the entire group looked on at the guns pointed their way from all directions.

_Now this was not what I expected_ Bosch thought to himself. But then, with the events that had happened earlier, he probably should have.


	18. Interlude 7

_**Interlude**_

_As we prepared to leave our heroes behind, I gazed not upon the road ahead, but the one we were leaving behind._

_My creator's reign had extended far and wide, through many galaxies, over many civilizations. They had been the kind hand of help for a chosen few, the heavy hand of authority for some and a harsh instrument of death of many. It bothered my mind then, as it does now, the aggression, the atrocities they had committed. _

_In a sense, one could call it retribution, what the Universe had done to us, and I was reminded then of an addage that many a wise man had said: 'Do unto others, as you would do unto yourself.' If only this wise man had been in power, such devastation, such horrors, it all would have been avoided._

_Yet, in a sense, it is a very tangled web that life weaves. Had it not been for such atrocities, such horrors, our sins would have never attracted the Great Destroyers, and my discovery of life granted by the kindness of one being would have been overshadowed by the discovery of death granted by the cruelty of my creators._

_To this day...I wonder, why we were spared. We few, a handfull of the entire species. Were we blessed with good luck, or were we cursed with bad?It all seems so random. Even till today, upon studying the path that has brought me here, I cannot tell. At many a junction we were lucky, at many a junction, we weren't._

_When I finally stopped gazing at the heroes, at the legacy we had left behind for the universe, I pondered upon where we were going, and what I was going to do. For the first time, fear crept into my mind; fear of the unknown that was beyond the gate. We had already been forsaken by one universe – what made us think we would be accepted by another? Perhaps it was desperation that made us so, for indeed, desperation and instinct have been the driving force of many a civilization, many an Exodus._

_I thought then, as I do now...were we chosen for this journey? As the gateway died down and then opened up the floodgates between the universe, I remembered thinking about the circumstances and analyzing the data. Perhaps...fate had decided to spare us, for what few good deeds that our race committed, in balance for the sin that was our pride. Not everyone was proud, and indeed, many more lived humble and fulfilling lives, filled with kindness and understanding._

_Then I realized, like I do now, that what the universe had done was merely seek Retribution for what we had done against it. But it was not cruel, not like we had been, for it had mercy. It would eventually forget us, and that we ever existed, for such was the way of life. But that did not mean it would remove our existance itself._

_Perhaps...perhaps there were survivors. Other pockets, just like ours. But unlike us, they had nowhere else to go. I cannot imagine what such a situation would have been like; to despair as one slowly stagnated to death, waiting for either the Destroyers to come above their skies, or to wait for time and entropy to take its eventual course._ _I know that we were lucky, in every sense of the word. For unlike them, we would live...we would carry the memories of our empire as we went, and we would rebuild. While we were desperate, we did not despair. In such a situation...I do not see, do not comprehend how I would go about living, my very purpose for doing so having been removed by fate and destiny._

_But such thoughts belonged in this universe, and this one alone, for at the time, I had much brighter and more important things that needed to be looked forward to._

_As the gateway opened, I remember staring in awe at the tunnel that led us through the stars, and into the other world. It was undescribable, and had I been of flesh and blood, I would have found it breathtaking in it's entirety. Then I asked the question...if the universe had shown us mercy...had it done the same to the creators of the gateway?_

_It had clearly not forgotten the creators, the ones that could traverse it at will, for their gateway had still been there. But had it removed them from existance, sparing them no mercy? And what of the great destroyers? Were they but the hands of destiny, the mere tools of fate? Or were they something far more sinister?_

_I remember asking those questions to myself, and to those that listened to me. Filled with nothing but questions and seeking answers, I dived head-first into the tunnel that would save us, the Great Destroyers at our heels and threatening to stop us. _

_Our journey had merely begun, that much was for certain, however. Unlike most journeys, however, ours was special...different, in a way._

_For quiet simply, we were the exiles of one universe, forgotten by destiny and lost in time. Ours was the journey of the forgotten, and this was our story._

_Once on the other side of the gate, we ran._

_From system to system, galaxy to galaxy. We ran across the universe, getting as far away from the Destroyers as we possibly could. This universe was exactly the same as the one we had left, except it was younger. The paths we knew, the rivers we had bridged were all there, exactly as we remembered them, allowing us to run faster. This universe was prime...untouched and far younger than the one we had left. It was like it had been when our empire birthed itself from our planet, reaching out to the heavens as our children followed the embers of dying stars in the pursuit of their dreams, their destinys._

_I do not know for how long we ran. Many generations of my creators came and left as we did so, non-stop. I know that when we stopped, we were in a galaxy where our empire had been strongest, near the same homeworld upon which we had arisen, and upon which our dreams had been shattered. But it was empty, devoid of any life and evidence of our species. It was as if we had never existed._

_When we came upon it..I considered. We had been given a second chance, another shot at life and getting it right. Perhaps...perhaps this was the chance to set things right, to bring about good to the galaxy, and to life._

_With much trepidation, and despite the protests of my creators, we established our presence here, setting base on the planet, and reaching out across the stars. The society we created would be one for peace, one to make up for the sins we had committed, and one that would help the species that we knew would begin to grow far, far in the future. _

_To the few species that we met, our technology, our legacy was considered reaching the height of presence and the pinnacle of achievement. We were the oldest they had encountered, and so they gave us our name for which we would be known throughout their realm._

_For we were the forerunners, the ones that had come here from the depths of hell, looking for the path to salvation. Until we had stopped, I had never realized it...never found it. Until I had stopped and worked towards bettering ourselves, to make up for the sins we had committed, I never realized the truth. Only when I gazed upon it in our achievements, in the heights we had reached, I felt it within my heart then, that we had indeed achieved salvation._

_Sadly, the truth would soon show me otherwise._


	19. The Hand of the Savior

**_The hand of the savior_**

_For many an eternity, those who have wandered upon my form have gazed upon it…looked upon it and wondered…why was I left behind? Why had my creators left without me, unlike most of their other creations? Indeed, even those who approach the status of gods ask, what is my purpose, being in this doomed world?_

_And as with all creatures that were born here, and of those creations that were abandoned, I can give no answer. No matter how much they rail, vent, cry, beg or demand an answer to their questions, I can give them only silence in reply._

_It is not that I have no answer…my knowledge and the information I was given can be attested to by the few witnesses that have remained in this doomed existence, whether they are here by fate, or by choice…_

_They can attest to the millions upon millions of years of wisdom given to me by the creators. They can also attest to the lives and experiences of the brave few billion that remained behind and built my form, and gave birth to my mind. And then, the last few, like most other life in the universe fell to the fate they knew that was coming upon their existence. _

_Each trusted my soul, my presence of mind to do the task that they could not do and most importantly, to keep it a secret from the creations that survived, till the right time and the right person._

_This person, or group of persons, would be brought forth by the heralds that they had brought into this ancient pact. The heralds were the first born of the universe; the ones that were nearly as eternal as my creators. Unlike my creators, they were more of a part of this universe than they were separate from it; in essence it's blood and life. The creators knew they would be ideal for the task at hand, and could be trusted with the knowledge of what to do._

_The ancient pact remained strong, and to this day, the beings known by many as the great destroyers have since been conducting their grim task. It is an unpleasant one, for many a civilization has been raised indirectly in the shadow of their actions, only to be destroyed when they outgrow the shadows and catch their attention. Although this went against the edicts of my creators, and indeed, everything I was created for, it is still a grim task that must be done for the majority of existence. For each species that is destroyed in the flames and chaos of life; a dozen more flourish in the order and shadows of where they had been._

_The destroyers speak to me of this…although they do not mind the task, they grow weary, tired…regretful. For countless eons they have fought and fought and fought, and although they are adapted for it, and by all means, capable of it, the tasks they commit and the amount of sacrifice they give to the pact that binds them is so far unparalleled by any other species. They have suffered so much, and yet, the end hardly seems at sight for them. _

_I witness as many species curse and rave at them for darkening their skies like a plague, and for the destruction they commit. But if only they knew b**why/b** the destroyers do what they do, shall they know the true extent of how b**they**/b have darkened their own skies, rather than the destroyers. _

_But no matter whom they deal with, the destroyers can only remain mute to the cries of the younger races. Only a rare few of the younger races understand what they are trying to say. In billions upon billions of years, and millions of races that have come and gone, only seven have understood their word, their patterns of speech. Yet, as the heralds brought each to me, each chose not to end the destroyer's torment. _

_Once briefed of what was to occur, each race reacted differently._

_The first one was old; almost as old as the destroyers themselves. A vast mind borne from the silica and metals of a harsh world, its ominous presence had remained fixed to the ground for many a century as it grew and felt into the space around it. The mind reached out across space eventually, sending it's tendrils to grow and expand past the planet that had birthed it. It met the great destroyers soon after, beings who shared a somewhat similar birth that it had. _

_Within hours, the means to communicate had been found, and the mind was brought before me. It was told of the severity of the disaster that was to befall it, and us. It was given the choice the creators had asked us to give it – either join us, or flee. For to remain would only make things worse than if it were to go. The mind could not stay and fight, for as wise as it was, it knew its limits, and instead chose to flee. Its world was then moved out, into the winds of sand, time and fate, and one mark was added upon my form to signify its passing. It promised me it would try to return once it was stronger, wiser. But it knew as much as I did; we would only see each other again should fate decide upon it. Perhaps we would meet again one day; for who knew what fate had in store for us all?_

_The second ones came soon after. _

_They were somewhat young when they made first contact. A race of intellectuals that respected the powers of the mind and the individual, they were wise beyond their ages and smarter than most other races at their age. They abhorred war, and preferred to gain control through economic might instead._

_They were born on the sixth planet of a star that was on the verge of death. They were of the more common carbon variety; bipedal, their world was made mostly of water and ice; with only little land. They evolved on the largest piece of land, and did so quickly. Soon, individuals became groups; groups became tribes; tribes became villages; villages became small forts and settlements; and these soon grew into spectacular cities that grew to such heights, that they seem to touch the very stars themselves._

_Had they been born earlier, they would have met their extremely hostile and territorial neighbors on the inhabitable rock that was now their fourth planet, and a fierce battle would have ensued for their very existence. But no such thing took place now, for many ages ago that race had challenged the destroyers in a bid for power, domination and control._

_And then, that race was no more._

_But yet, the legacy of their violence and horror remained within the system, drawing forward their neighbors in curiosity, and then reeling them back in shock. But the younger race learnt from the mistakes of the older; they knew that it was possible others would not be as peaceful as they. However, they were still determined to try and contact the great destroyers; if only to learn bwhy/b they had done what they had done. Learning what they could, they sought out across space for the great destroyers, all the while figuring out ways to make contact._

_And it was not long before they found the destroyers as they were conducting their grim task nearby, and first contact was made._

_The great destroyers handled the new race with care; for never before had anyone sought them for anything other than war or conflict. They left behind the fleet – thankfully intact – and brought to me five individuals; five chosen to be the representatives of the younger race._

_These five chosen soon stood before me, and I offered them the same choice I had the first. However, this time it was different; for unlike the first, where there was only a single mind to communicate with, here there were many – approximately fifteen billion, at the minimum. Although the five had been chosen, they could not make the decision on their own. They left soon after, to consult with the rest of their species. To move fifteen billion individuals was no joke, but it was possible, given time. _

_Unfortunately, despite my preparations, soon there would be no need for any such deed._

_The five individuals returned to me a short while later with their species' decision. It had been quick and easy to make, for quite simply, where the species had consisted of fifteen billion, now remained only fifteen thousand._

_For when the chosen had left the system, time had taken its course, and so had nature. The aging star that had fueled the system for so long, and had witnessed the births of two civilizations finally succumbed to time and entropy. In a cruel twist of the fate, where the system had been, was now only an expanding sphere of gas and debris;, that shone across the night sky in many another system with the brilliance of a hundred million suns. It consumed the second race with a divine yet horrifying beauty, leaving only the survivors that had been out of the system._

_My hopes, too died with their race's death, and despite sympathy of their plight, and despite their shock, I still asked them for their decision._

_And thus, the second mark was placed upon my form. Another opportunity had come, and then just as quickly, had been whisked away by the sands of fate. I cannot help but feel a tang of guilt at what happened; but still, I know that at least a few survived, and like the first, perhaps they would be able to find shelter elsewhere, and grow once more. However, considering the fate they chose, I cannot help but think that death would have been better; for they were now cursed to run forever, always at the edge of the disaster that would come to claim the rest of us. They were fast enough to stay ahead of it…yet, not fast enough to get far away enough to rest; lest it catch up to them._

_And so once more I watched, and waited._

_It was not long before the third was born._

_A race of arachnids, the thirds were in many respects similar to the great destroyers when it came to social structures and methods of living. Born on the second planet of a young star system, their habitats ranged from lush forests and greenery, to arid deserts and freezing mountains. Although their planet had been formed early in the life of the universe; their evolution took far longer. Many a species came and went on the planet in a string of natural disasters; but theirs held steadfast against all odds. One could call them either extremely lucky, or extremely tenacious in their will to survive._

_But even with sentience, they grew slowly. _

_Their society was a fragmented one; with many different societies all over their planet living in relative peace and isolation from each other. Occasionally, there was conflict, and indeed, competition for common resources. But unlike many hundreds of other civilizations, their resolution was peaceful, and quick to finish, allowing them to flourish at what many other civilizations would consider a snail's pace. Unlike most other civilizations, however, there was simply no need to grow rapidly._

_However, their planet was only so large, and even with their slow growth, the need eventually arose to reach for the stars. For the first time, the civilization looked outwards, and considered what other life may or may not exist in the universe. They first moved to the fifth planet in the system. And then, soon, they discovered a method to bridge the gap between star systems that would take them across within their short lifetimes._

_But even as they explored the systems around them, they encountered no other life nearby; no wrecks and no signs. Unlike the others, where there had at least been the memories, the legacy of the races that had come and gone before, this race was well and truly alone. For millennia they wandered the night, their civilization uniting and growing closer together in their virtual loneliness. Their empire soon became grand, reaching many a social and political pinnacle that only a few of the older races could rival. Since there were plenty of resources and no fighting; their civilization and technology progressed slowly, often using the same practices that were millennia old._

_But yet, still, their search became more desperate as their loneliness grew. They searched farther and faster than ever before. _

_It was by this loneliness that they finally made contact with the great destroyers. The destroyers were as curious of the third as they were of them. It was akin to seeing a near-perfect reflection in a mirror of sorts; nearly identical, yet not exactly there. Had any other race witnessed the ships that gathered in orbit, they would have had difficulty in spotting the difference in designs._

_For a brief moment, I could almost feel it in the mind of the destroyers; a brief flicker of happiness and of joy as the third was contacted. The hive minds knew that there was a chance…a hope, as it were, that they could no longer be so alone in their task anymore._

_Here again, a few were chosen to represent the whole. Six were brought before me, and were told of the problem that now plagued us all. The destroyed had asked me to query them; to question if they would be willing to join hands in controlling the damage, and making their grim task a little better._

_Unlike the second race, the third did not need to return to confer with their peers. A decision was made on the spot. The third race, while understanding the problem and issue, simply had neither the desire nor the capability to do what I was asking of them. Indeed, it was an insane plan, one that doomed their race to existence; essentially going completely against self-preservation in every sense of the word. They scoffed at the destroyers, and slammed their decision away. They said they would have no such part to play; for they could not – bwould/b not join in the sin that the destroyers partook in everyday, regardless of how similar they may be._

_This enraged the great destroyers; for the words struck true to their very core. The destroyers, under no circumstances, enjoyed what they did. However, time and practice had conditioned them against the pain, de-sensitizing them. The words only ran true, unlocking the festering regret they suffered over their actions. Regret, which eventually led to anger…to rage…and then, finally to its eventual climax: unsurpassed destruction._

_The reaction was swift; and over before I could do anything about it. The destroyers, in a rage unlike any other, swamped them with all of their might. Millions of ships poured out of subspace against the third race, which were ready for them. However, their response was useless as the destroyers pulled off ships from elsewhere to compensate for this._

_They only lasted three hours before nothing remained of their planets, ships and homes but dust and echoes._

_Six thousand survived in my structure; shocked and in despair at what happened, these few individuals begged me for help. But there was little I could do, apart from what I had been made to. And so, as they traveled through, the third mark was made, and then, their civilization no longer was present in this realm. _

_It was harrowing; frightening what the destroyers had done; but it was not surprising. The destroyers held within them many eons of agonizing over their actions. And then they had gone numb, as was required to do the task effectively. They knew what was at risk here, as held by the pact they had with my creators. _

_But still; when the third had brought them up to the surface, it reduced their rationality, and only brought up memories that the minds had stifled to preserve sanity and order. And thus, through their arrogance, the third ensured that they were no more._

_Despite this; the great destroyers continued their grim task. There was nothing I could do to stop them, for the creators trusted these beings with the universe. And as was proven by their subsequent actions, the beings were still trustable._

_The fourth to witness my presence was not organic; nor had they evolved naturally. It was a creation, much like I was, and shared with me a sense of familiarity that I had not seen for such a long time. The only family I knew were my creators…and they had gone for so long, and with the task at hand, I did not know how lonely I really was, till I met it...for a while then, I knew what the destroyers must have felt when they met the third; the hopes, the joys and the feelings of potentially meeting another so much like themselves…_

_They could not be called a race; but more of a group mind. Made up of a seemingly infinite number of nanites, it had been created by another race that had arisen to power in a remote corner of space, in a small cluster of stars where several other species grew as well. The race grew, prospering and benefiting from many an alliance with its neighbors. _

_There's was a peaceful race, and made many an advancement in nanite engineering. They eventually created the mind's predecessors, in an attempt to bring their civilization and achievements to new heights. They succeeded in doing so, and doing so remarkably. They rose to the height of their alliance and local cluster, reaching levels of achievements that were nearly as powerful as my own. Theirs was also a kind civilization, helping many another to reach those heights, the levels of contentment and happiness that theirs had achieved._

_But no all the races they helped shared the same view of contentment. The fourth's creators were too trusting, too uncaring to see as one the races they helped sneaked in the shadows, and into the night. They watched and waited as the others enjoyed their somewhat Utopian existence. It is unclear why they struck, or indeed, why they chose to be so stubborn in believing the lie that was their faith. Perhaps they were jealous in their inability to make true their dreams as the others had, by seemingly impossible means. Perhaps…they were simply evil; the other hand of fate that I had witnessed so many times before. Maybe they were…but whether they were doesn't matter._

_They struck at the darkest hour, striking a blow deep into the other race's hearts, in an attempt to take over. The blow was deep, chilling and a shock for those involved. Immediately, the fourth's creators fell into a fifty year war. They were simply too weakened and in too much disarray to fight back effectively. Heroes rose, and heroes fell as they managed to regroup and fight back with their advanced nano-technology. The fourth was their oldest creation, and was called on to fight along with the others._

_That was till ten years before the fourth met me, when nothing was left of any of the races but the ashes, dust and memories._

_Left without a purpose, without an enemy, the fourth struck off into space; hoping to find peace for itself, and the memories of the billions of individuals it had just witnessed die; and pay respects to the countless souls and paradise that it had failed to protect._

_And then, it had found the great destroyers; beings that had killed far, far more than it had, but for a similar purpose. Given its nature, the mind was able to communicate easily, much akin to the first had. The destroyers brought it's mass to us, sacrificing many a number to protect and bring it through hostile territory._

_When it's presence at last swarmed over my form with an infinity of nanites, I presented the problem to it, much like I had presented to the three that had come before. But fate tempted me in this case, much as it had the destroyers before. I asked a simple request from it; one that I could not control or deny after so many years of loneliness and the sufferings of a strained sanity. I asked it, if it were not going to take the choice to help, to at least stay with me in the dark and lonely night, to offer companionship, if nothing else._

_The fourth understood my request, and the sadness behind it. It too had been alone in the night; devoid of the voices and echoes of it's creators for nary a time. It pointed out to me, however, that if it were to stay, I would have failed the mission given to me, much like how it had failed its creators. _

_It accepted the task at hand, and made the choice none of the previous three had chosen. The fourth believed that in completing this task, in accepting this impossibility, it would exonerate itself from its failure. With great sadness, I agreed with its decision. However, it was neither without kindness nor sympathy. It agreed to stay with me, become part of me in essence, for a short time before it went about the required task. Even though it remained with me for a thousand years, for a being that has existed for several billion, it was but a mere blink of an eye as the fourth mark was added to my form, and it went through on it's mission…promising that once it completed the task, it would return once more, and that we would be together again. It made me promise to wait for it, despite the fact that my purpose had now been fulfilled; much akin to how two immortal lovers would wait for each other through time, and space._

_But it was not meant to be._

_Although the great destroyers went with it to protect the fourth; a chance encounter with one of the inhabitants on the other side stalled them, as the more aggressive members opened fire on their fleet. Before we could help, indeed, before I could do anything…it, and the destroyers that had gone with it were no more…_

_It is said that any soldier is willing to give his or her life for their cause; for their beliefs, and for the lives of others. At the drop of a hat, any true soldier would be willing to give his life to save another squad mate, his buddies. He does not fear his own death, and to him, such things are but minor blows._

_But what is harder, what is so binfinitely/b harder, is watching those others – especially those loved ones – die in front of their face. The blow that comes with it as the familiar presence is wrenched away from your reach is by far so much more agonizing._

_But still…despite my grief, my suffering and my loss…I had to go on. The destroyers consoled me as best as they could, but eventually, only I could make myself move on. Burying my past, and paying my respects, I once again returned to the lonely night…watching and waiting for the next to be brought before me. _

_The fifth did not take long before they were brought here. But they were not a race._

_Although most definitely a group, the rag-tag bunch that the destroyers had found was actually a ship's crew. Consisting of several different species, their vessel was run by a sentient artificial intelligence. Their leader was a hero of sorts from where he had come, collecting the odd bunch after he had the ship had been displaced in time and space by an accident in his home world. _

_The leader had wandered far and wide, conducting many acts of heroism and saving many lives – some of which then became a part of his crew. He had been fleeing one of the older races when the destroyers had chanced upon them. The AI had managed to recognize the destroyer's method of communication, and then manage to talk to them before being attacked. The destroyers brought forth the ship and it's crew to me, where they then told me their stories to date. _

_The leader was very wise, but yet at the same time, very old. Upon hearing of the choice, and what was at stake should he fail…he refused. It was not that he did not want to; he told me that every moral fiber in his being wanted to do nothing but help me. But the truth was, that he was now on his death bed. To attempt to run such a gauntlet, when so much was at risk…he realized the truth then, as much as I did, he would probably have made the situation worse, as opposed to better. He begged me, however, to let his crew go through, and to let them have a safe home where they would not need to run anymore._

_I did not know what to say to them. The second race, by now, would still be continuing to run…but what of this crew? How could I promise him safety…promise him hope against this sort of a thing? Not even my creators, as powerful as they were, would have been able to promise such a thing. Yet, at the same time, I did not have the heart to crush his hopes and refuse him. But then…what could I do?_

_I did the only thing I possibly could have done in that situation…I lied._

_And so the fifth mark was made upon my form as their crew passed through. I wished soundly, that they would find their safety and well-being, and that my promise didn't have to._

_And once more, the waiting began. _

_I don't know how long had passed before the sixth was brought before me…time meant little to me by then as my sanity seemed to fragment from the loneliness and sadness of the dark night, and the planet below._

_The sixth were an unusual race. They were carbon-based, but had evolved in vastly different circumstances than most species. They had evolved on the outer edges of a gas giant; floating and living amongst the extremely high winds and titanic storms that brewed across its surface. They grew in these harsh conditions, knowing neither land nor any physical limit past the pressure of the gas giant below. _

_Their society was simple, eloquent and long-lived. The ages of their oldest individuals easily surpassed several thousand years, and as a whole, they were incredibly wise. They left the embrace of the gas giant's gravity field in balloon like ships that sailed across the stars as they met and then traded with most other civilizations._

_Although they weren't aggressive, they did display a significant degree of suspicion for most other species, especially the younger ones. However, this did not reduce the fact that they were one of the kinder races around, much like how the fourth's creators had been. _

_They were also watched the destroyers as they went about their grim task; usually hiding out in the gas giants and observing as the younger, more aggressive races fought back, only to fall eventually. Theirs was the only one that understood the role the destroyers had to play here. And so they did not resist when the destroyers eventually came to their corner of the galaxy, instead choosing to make contact with them. It was then that the destroyers brought them forth to me._

_They understood the problem at hand; but unfortunately, they, like the second, chose not to help. When asked why, they simply said it was beyond their capacity; which I immediately identified as a lie. When I questioned further, I eventually found out the truth. They were not of this universe; and indeed, had met other creations similar to myself; ones that had been abandoned by the creators to our fate here. They knew of the problem that plagued me, and were not unsympathetic to my plight. However, they also knew what was required to do what was asked, and simply were not capable. _

_Unsure what to say to this, but somewhat surprised at the news of them meeting other creations, I left them to their devices once they decided not to interfere. Perhaps their race still exists in the galaxy where the destroyers had found them, perhaps they survived the millennia as time passed by…or perhaps they didn't. After that day, I didn't see the sixth race ever again._

_The seventh to grace my form nearly destroyed it._

_It was an ancient being; one that had been found mortally wounded by the destroyers. It was almost as old as the first that had come to me. It was surprising that it had not been found sooner, for it had the ability to communicate with many a being, as it did with the destroyers when it asked for help. _

_I took the being under my shelter and care, nursing it back to health slowly. I recognized the being as having approached transcendence; a stage where it would move and grow into the many non-corporeal entities of the universe. Soon, once healed, it would escape and go into the universe, wild and free. _

_It was at that time, I felt a pang of guilt for having to give it the choice that I had given the others. It truly did not deserve to make such a decision…not at its stage in life. But, still, my creators had made the instructions clear, and I approached it with the choice._

_But when in the process of doing so, the being suddenly transcended, catching me off-guard. It attacked me, with all its might. But my creators built me strong, and I was able to throw it off with ease. However, before I could do so, it had taken away three of the marks left on my form, to signify the passing of the others. _

_It was then I learned of its plans. It had known my creators since the beginning, and was actually one of their creations. It had been enraged when it had been left behind; left utterly defenseless against the calamity that was to come. It raged at me, asking why bI/b had been chosen over it to have the power to escape, why it had been abandoned so. It desired nothing more than to destroy me, out of rage and denial at what the creators had deniedb it./b_

_I hesitated a bit and considered. This was another creation, just like me. Was it my place to destroy or harm it? After all, what it had said was true…for the creators had left it behind with nothing, while they had given me much to be thankful for. However, then I remembered it's deception, of how it had harmed me, of how it now intended to harm and kill me._

_In rage, anger and denial of having being betrayed so; I crushed the being, snuffing out its existence just as surely as the destroyers had crushed many other beings in the universe. I focused all my rage, anger and denial at it, leaving my form for a short while to hunt it down with the destroyers and then crush it myself. I did not think with sanity at that time, nor did I think of the consequences of what my departure would have. Instead, I was only focused only on the rage and insanity that had been perpetuated by billions of years of entropy upon my mind. _

_Eventually, I was successful, and returned back to my form to take up residence. The destroyers did not return with me, for they had other tasks to undertake. However, when I returned, I was surprised to find a few uninvited guests. _

_A new race had taken place around my form; building around it an impressive ring. They had managed to enter my form and, driven by curiosity, they sought to find it's secrets. Of course, this was not possible. For a brief instant, I realized that I had nearly failed the creators in my promise of keeping their secret. In my rage and anger, my sanity had been clouded such that now my very mission was at stake._

_Sneaking back onboard, I surveyed how much they had done. Fortunately, it was not much, and they had discovered very little. However, even that little could not be allowed to be used; such was the danger of the knowledge in the ring. I quietly informed the destroyers of this; and although they were understandably upset, they too agreed with my assessment. It was prudent timing, in actuality. The race had perpetuated the disaster significantly, and the destroyers had already been moving to contain them. However, it would not be easy. This race was far, far larger than most of the others encountered to date. The only ones that had been stronger had been the third. But at time, the destroyers had been stronger as well. But after so many ages of fighting and fighting, they were weary, and tired. _

_And yet, still, they fought on. _

_The conflict started elsewhere. They quietly slipped away and left those on the ring alone, to let me deal with them as I saw fit. For a while, I observed those on the ring and considered what to do with them. None of them had any intention of harming me, and indeed, had done nothing to damage me either. For the moment, I tolerated their presence and only watched._

_The beings that were on the ring sent a construct; a creation to probe my inside, and to roam my form. I followed in its shadows, studying it out of curiosity. There was something about this one…something so familiar about the way it moved through my form and my systems that puzzled me. It was clearly a creation, an artificial intelligence of a significantly high order, and specifically created to study my form. But yet…it was so familiar…so eerily familiar that I could not deny it. _

_I followed in it's footsteps, looked over it's shoulder as it blindly moved from place to place. It was clearly not sentient…but I hesitated before moving to destroy it. It looked too much like one of my memories; like how the fourth had been. It was too uncanny a resemblance. Every AI had it's own method of movement…and this one was identical to that._

_My creators had taught me of the possibility of re-incarnation…and such a possibility came into my mind now…It was tantalizing and yet at the same time, painful as memories of sorrow and happiness dredged themselves up from the back of my mind._

_It was too tempting to see it in this light…too tantalizing. In the end, after much considering, I decided to act. I reached out and btouched/b it; briefly exposing to it some of the memories I knew of it, in an attempt to illicit a response that my being demanded. _

_It paused in it's search as it felt the touch. Unsure what it was, I saw as the program grew into a mind; and as the mind took shape, my joy knew no bounds as the mind looked so similar to the fourth…or at least, what the fourth would have been at the beginning of it's sentient life. For a brief second, I considered letting it become fully aware of my presence. _

_But then, I realized…I couldn't. _

_No matter how much I wanted no, no matter how much I desired to do so, to reveal my presence to the being would more than likely just harm not only it, but my entire mission here. The rest was the rest of life; versus just one individual…I didn't want to make that choice. I screamed in silent denial as the universe then threw at me the same choice I had given to seven others in what could only be described as bitter irony and karma. _

_What could I do then? Make my choice, and then kill it again, just like I had all that many ages ago? Or choose the other way, and let everyone and everything else – including the destroyers whom had sacrificed so much for me – to just die? The question continued to reply in my mind as the mind found the news of the destroyer's actions, of the destruction of its creator's home world. _

_I watched as it rose with grim determination to save the individuals around it; the same determination and fear it had shown that many ages ago before it had departed through the gate in search for it's salvation, and to seek retribution for its failiure…only to die afterwards. _

_I realized then, that I did not have two, but bthree/b choices. _

_Life hadn't given me a second chance at rekindling memories of a time before. It had chosen, instead, to give bit/b a second chance at retribution. A second chance that I knew I shouldn't stop, if only out of respect…_

_I have given so much for this…this cause that I accepted at the beginning of time from my creators. I have given up everything I know, including my own sanity without a second thought. Yet…when asked to give up someone else…why must it be so difficult? I would rather face the seventh again than do this…yet, I somehow force myself to do so, and watching as the mind courses through the ring and my systems, and accessing the gate, while a portion of its creators go to stop the destroyers nearby._

_I had made my decision…I would not interfere in this…and I asked the destroyers not to either. They respected my wishes, and instead focused on the mind's creators that had been sent to stop them. I watched as the mind pondered its situation, of why it was there. The temptation to tell it is simply too overwhelming…but yet, still, somehow I manage to control myself, and keep my presence secret._

_And then the mind leaves me; going onto its creator's vessels ahead of my form. I watch as they enter the gateway, in search for refuge and salvation. I only hoped that the mind would find what it was looking for...and that this time, it would be successful. _

_However, now my task still lay before me. With great sadness, and guilt, I once again return to waiting. _

_Maybe one day I would be free; capable of roaming the stars again in search of the mind, and then we would dance amongst the stars once more in companionship, and that I would never be alone after that…_

_Perhaps I would live to see that day, or perhaps I wouldn't._

_In either case, the ninth now stand before me, and I have made my decision. Stranded here by time and fate, I believe it is these few chosen that shall finally give an end to my purpose, and to finally set me free. _

_I can only hope that should you read this message, my creators that you would forgive me for what actions that I have taken, and for the promise I had broken. Even if you do not forgive me…I beg of you to at least, please understand my plight – for that is all any living creature – even you – would ask. _

_I know I promised you then, that I would remain here, to guard your children and your other creations. But time is coming to an end, and if they are to be protected, I must leave. I knew you thought me to always give any that come up to me choice, but these few that have gathered here already made that choice far before. I see in their stories, in their histories, the tragedies they have brought about to be here; the beliefs they hold for the greater good. I bknow /b that in these few, we can finally find the solution you were so desperately hoping the chosen few would choose to find. The hand of the savior has to them…however, we shall soon find out whether they truly are._

_Eight came and went, and none of them could help. But this ninth has no other alternative. If they were to choose not to help, like the other few did…then so be it. There is no time left…and even though I know that it'll mean my end, I shall complete this task myself. It is a decision that the destroyers have agreed to as well; for they are as weary as I. All they can do is contain the problem…but for it to end, we must act. It is either do or die with the ninth, for I promise you, there shall be no tenth. _

_I only hope that you can forgive me…_

_Please…_


	20. Chapter 11: Faith's End

**Chapter 11**

**Faith's End**

_The beings known to many others as the great destroyers slowly began to increase their number and, consolidate their presence. First they arrived either individually or in groups of two or threes, and then by the dozens and scores…and then, eventually, by the hundreds. They slipped out quietly from the subspace nodes, making way for the ones that came after in an orderly profession and each ship knew its place in the formation. Although a significant percentage of their number had inhabited the system, there were still others…many others that had continued on the pact that drove them onwards till now. And it was these others that were now returning to the system, and what was, in essence, the throne of the universe._

_Many civilizations that have encountered, and indeed, been destroyed by them have asked many questions of the great destroyer's nature, and their purpose. Those that have understood their speech have asked them their purpose and of the pact…only to find the truth by the one that they bring them to. Indeed, for much of their existence has been like this, and they have had little voice in the matter. But as with all questions, there are answers._

_The nature of the great destroyers is remarkably simple…yet so damningly complex. Many beings in the universe have arisen, and used subspace to create tunnels that they may traverse the distance of space. Many do not realize, that this tunnel is, in fact, a vast ocean that any being from our realm would not be able to discern. They merely cut into this ocean for tiny fraction of time, utilizing it to skip the massive distances they would have to cover had they remained in their realm. Unfortunately, like an ocean, their visibility in it is limited…and hence, none of them know, or notice as the great destroyers listen to them as their passage makes vibrations in this ocean. _

_The destroyers were born here when it was first formed. Their minds evolved within the intricate energy patterns present in it; the first being of nothing but pure energy and thought. And then came another…and another. Eventually, their presence filled the ocean, stretching from one edge of the universe to another. The minds merged and separated at will; forever free from any of the restrictions that creatures dependent on the simple matter suffered; forever at a state that was incomprehensible to anyone younger…Their minds formed a presence, far before any of the real-matter life forms could even have a chance to exist in the now-cooling universe. At this point of time, their race soon found…**it.**_

_What **it** was nothing but an aberration to them…one that threatened them all. This aberration…this 'corruption' as it were, ate at the heart of the universe they were in, and at the realm that held their – and many other future race's – worlds together. They did not really know how to describe it, and indeed, most other races that encountered it simply did not know how to place the aberration…the closest analogy one could come to, would probably be that the universe was quite literally eating itself, slowly and painfully. In the affected areas, entropy would either run wild and loose, bringing about an end to time and space, or it would come about to a complete halt, freezing time in it's tracks in many different and random areas; as if to forever remember the scene as much as possible, while doing it's best to forget others. In these areas, time would no longer know linearity, with the events taking place in no discernable order…yet; still, there was still order in how long they lasted for. When **it** appeared; the universe's agonizing disruption would end shortly thereafter, leaving behind a void…a hole of nothingness…almost as if the very concept of existence itself no longer held true there.. _

_This aberration plagued the destroyers for many a millennia as it slowly drained away subspace into nothingness, restricting their free space further and further. They discovered ways to fight and contain it; but these methods required using matter and energy, preferably from the other realm's stars. But they could not manipulate the stars directly from subspace; for such an extension of self was not possible for them…to complete their task and ensure survival of their realm and species…they would have to leave it. _

_A consensus was formed amongst the minds, and a small number was chosen to go into real space to combat the aberration and curtail the disaster till a more permanent solution could be discovered. This number then left subspace, building for themselves many bodies suited to live in the harsh environment of the matter-realm. The beings housed their minds into these bodies, essentially re-learning how to think, move and live from scratch. For ten millennia, the Destroyers prepared themselves for their first attempt at stopping the aberration. They came up with a system that would allow their minds to merge and separate at will, depending on the task, and resembling closely how they operated within the energy realm._

_Each individual member of their species was sentient, as witnessed by those who mistook the fact that they depended completely on a hive mind structure, and then attempted to exploit it. Each individual is unique in their own special way, much like most matter-realm entities. _

_When a group of individuals gathered together, however, something different occurred. Although each would remain independent in their thought and sentience, their collective presence would form a new consciousness; a new mind based upon each individual's thoughts and abilities. Where a group would seem like it consisted of five individuals, there would actually be six, with the larger mind acting to guide the group actively. This sixth mind would be equally sentient from the others, all of whom would be aware of its presence. It is in this way that their ships become alive and reactive; for in essence, the larger mind works on a different scale, one that guides each individual through the larger picture, and ensures that each element works in harmony with each other._

_The scale does not stop there, either. Each ship's sentience, when grouped together with other similar minds in a fleet, would act in the same way that most individuals would, in essence together forming a new, separate fleet mind that would rise to guide them, much as they guided their charges. _

_The scale continues; with each fleet mind then combining together to form a separate, overall hive mind; the presence of which is absolute for the entire local cluster. And then, when this hive mind were to combine with those from other clusters, it would form up to create a species-wide 'prime' that was unshakable in it's resolve, and absolutely titanic in it's capabilities. It was this mind, and its sheer size and redundancy, which would keep the destroyer's system from collapsing as they approached the aberration. Although the loss of a few individuals would disrupt the local minds, the prime would remain steadfast and unshakable by the aberration's attempts to dislodge it._

_With this system, and a fleet of starships designed to use the subspace realm in which they had existed to travel, the destroyers approached the star system that housed the slowly-expanding aberration._

_It was then that they ran into the creators._

_The creators were an unusual species, and a perplexing question to the destroyers. These were the first matter-realm life forms the destroyers had encountered, and initial contact was awkward, to say the least. However, soon things were cleared up as the creators quickly adapted to the destroyer's method of communication. _

_The creators were unusual, in the sense that they did not belong there, nor did they actually have a home. They were akin to nomads; having settlements and installations in many universes, and building gateways between them. They had met energy-realm creatures like the destroyers before, and hence understood them. They also understood of the destroyer's purpose within the matter-realm and of how many others in the energy-realm had tried to do the same. _

_The creators were here to stop the aberration as well, much as they had in countless million other places. They were, in essence, doing as much damage control as possible. However, they revealed to the destroyers the shocking fact that their battle was a loosing one, and that even with the destroyer's help, the aberration would eventually spread, and consume them all. Even if the aberration was stopped here, then it would spread in from elsewhere where the destroyers weren't present. They could do nothing to stop the aberration, other than maybe slow it down. They had been fighting it for many millions of years, in an equal number of universes; having established a complete network of gateways in the local multiverse. As far as they could tell, although the aberration had originated from a single universe; consuming it completely, before it had then expanded outwards, slowly creeping into each of the alternative existences surrounding it. Nothing would stop it as the aberration in the centre of it all continued to grow and grow, despite what efforts they had taken. _

_It had gone to such an extent, the creators were now in full retreat; completing the final few installations before they withdrew from the entire sub-cluster, so that they could continue to protect the greater majority from immediate harm. _

_However, they knew of a method to remove the aberration altogether, to 'cure' the universe as it were. However, this method was well beyond any of their kind's reach, for the universe's limitations upon their existence came in the way, preventing them from reaching far enough to solve the problem. These limitations were the same for any of the creators, and especially the creations they had left behind. _

_But, these limitations were not true of the life emerging in the various universes where they had lived, fought and died. This new life could reach farther than they would ever be able to; and indeed, farther than their creations ever would be able to. They made a pact with the great destroyers; one that would mutually help each of them. They would leave behind a single creation in the destroyer's universe; one that would contain the aberration for as long as it could. This creation would also serve as a gateway between the universes, so that should the destroyers be unable to contain the aberration, they would at the least be able to flee it's grasp…if only temporarily. This creation would then serve as a guide for the chosen few, the one that would lead them to the solution that neither the creators, nor the destroyers could reach._

_However, the creators were wise. They did not wish to force such a task onto anyone; for to do so would mean risking its failure, and damning them all. They would, instead, offer the task as a choice to the chosen few, so that if they choose to follow and complete it, they would be determined and driven on by their own wills, as opposed to looking for a means to escape it at every opportunity. The criteria for the chosen few were to be simple, yet at the same time, nearly impossible to achieve. Only those that could communicate with the destroyers would be allowed to make the choice, to fully understand the calamity, and what was at stake. The creators also trusted in the destroyers' wisdom, and their choices. Should they ever require assistance, the creators said that a few of their own number would be left behind, to aid in their efforts. However, these few would only show themselves should the time be right and no sooner, leaving the destroyers to their own instruments, for the most part._

_The destroyers were now the heralds of fate, in a sense. The creators then left them with their final task, taking with them to safety those that had decided to remain in the energy-realm, essentially leaving the destroyers completely alone in the universe, with only the creation as their constant companion. _

_The last few members of their race, the destroyers have spent the previous fourteen billion years struggling to contain the aberration in it's place as more races came about. Those races that made use of subspace did so without knowing the immense damage and strain they placed upon it, reducing the tools with which the destroyers could fight the aberration. Soon, the destroyers realized that to continue to do their task; they would have to put an end to such interference, one way or the other._

_They tried in vain to communicate with the many species…only to find nothing but a bed of hostility and hatred in many a species. Those species that did not attack them tried to make peace and communicate with them…only to have their efforts end in vain as the destroyers were forced to move and shut down their space-faring vessels before they damaged subspace to beyond a point of recovery. _

_But one cannot accuse the destroyers of not understanding the younger race's plight. For each life they killed, they felt regret, guilt at such actions. They knew the younger races were only trying to survive, much like they were now struggling to, but yet still the needs of the greater majority drove them on, much like it had driven the creators to flee so many lifetimes before. Many of their own number were killed in the process, but the minds never really died; instead moving back into the energy realm before returning back to the matter one later._

_And all this time, the creation had watched and waited alongside them. The destroyers had experienced betrayal, kindness, ignorance and even fear from the chosen few that they had brought before the creation. _

_But now…even as the creation tired, so did they. After so long, they did not have the capabilities to go on all that much longer. The race belonging to the ninth had pushed back their presence as their first fleet had attempted to scout out the source of a newly-arisen patch of aberration, destroying the present fleet-mind as it attempted to see the extent of the damage that had taken place. In the process, the node to the aberration was sealed, dooming that civilization's home world to its mercy. Several years later, a second, more powerful ship that had tried to go to the star system and contain the aberration had been stopped by the race again. _

_Rather than attempt to push further against a possibly larger threat, the destroyers had instead attempted to contain the aberration from a distance, sending in six times the number of required vessels around one of the nearby stars to the aberration. They pulsed the star across subspace at many times the intensity required, to make up for the distance. Of course, as with elsewhere, the ninth's race was left behind only wondering what the destroyers had done and why. Not till they decided to open the gateway and see for themselves the aberration the destroyers had been attempting to stop, shall they know true fear. _

_The destroyers, for their part, then left the race alone. They had lost a small, but still significant number of the starships meant for containing the aberration, and had now retreated. They had with them the ninth, the last ones they would herald. The destroyers were now exhausted, tired and fed up, and as they gathered into the system, they prepared to take up the creators on the avenue of escape they had provided._

_But they were not about to do this blindly. _

_Should the ninth accept their fate, and go along with the plan, then the destroyers would escort them in their deed and tasks. To this extent, they did not intend to sit idly by. Even as the fleet began to prepare, and the mighty vessels that made up the Prime's core components began to move towards the gate, a small group had already formed in front of it. _

_The race belonging to the ninth would have classified the massive ships that led the force as a Ravana and a Demon Class Destroyer. The former alone would have been intimidating to most races in this galaxy, with the forward spikes holding deadly beam cannons that could ravage even the hardiest armor, backed up by the ones on the rear-upper pylons, allowing it a truly terrifying strike capacity. Only the Colossus was able to repel an attack from such a warship, and even then, it was only due to sheer size different. Next to it was the Demon Class. A fearsome warship in it's own right, the Demon bear significant resemblance to an over-grown and swollen flea; with it's large body and small, forward head. However, unlike the Ravana, it did not focus on all out forward attacks, instead spreading out its primary weapons to engage multiple foes from most angles. _

_These destroyers dwarfed their tiny escorts to a significant degree. Each of the destroyers had an escort of eight Moloch Class Corvettes, as well as almost a dozen Lilith and Cain Class cruisers. They were also escorted by scores upon scores of fighters and bombers that all buzzed around the main craft. _

_However, the most powerful weapon in this arsenal was not the destroyers or other ships themselves, but consisted of the six vessels in the centre of the formation. These vessels were individually far, far smaller than most of the others, save the Lilith and Cain class. Long and cylindrical, each of them seemed to have a swollen and somewhat elongated 'drum' like structure for their forward hulls, which rotated at a constant velocity. The rear of the craft was shorter than this, and was primarily an engine complex that drove what the ninth's race called the Rahu class Gas miners. But unbeknownst to the ninth's race, these six, barely armed ships held more firepower than the other vessels all combined._

_The destroyers had gone through the gateway once before, and had made the mistake if sending only a few escorts for the previous one that had accepted the choice. _

_They would not make that mistake once more._

_The structure that slowly rotated within the ring began to slow…to stop. Gradually, the lights all over its arms began to fade, from the edge-inwards. The central ring of lights around the inner ring started to grow in intensity, as if to compensate for the darkness on the outside ring. Then, the plating on the inside of the structure's inner ring began to glow a strange shade of grey, lighting up the ships present in front of it. _

_Slowly, steadily, a light-source began to develop in the very centre of the inner ring. At first, it was nothing but a tiny pinprick, nothing more than a point of light. Yet it had a certain darkness to it that made it cast out a grey color to the surroundings. _

_It quickly grew however; opening up and forming a grey vortex that spun rapidly. Inside, one could easily see grey-black clouds of…**something** churn and boil. However, not all movement was as such. Even in the thickest of storms, there would be absolutely still spots that simply did not **move** despite the fact that everything around it reacted as if they were indeed moving. It was as if entropy had been split apart and then either frozen in place, or accelerated beyond imagination here. In places, time even seem to roll backwards, with localized pockets within these places that suddenly began to run forward, which in turn held smaller pockets that ran backwards and then forwards again._

_And then, as the vortex reached its peak, if one were to look into the storm carefully enough, they would see off in the distance, at its very centre, nothing more than blackness…nothingness, as it were…_

_The destroyers did not seem daunted by the storm or this presence, however, and instead began to accelerate within the vortex. The first few fighters zoomed ahead, their afterburners leaving a white trail across space as they accelerated into the vortex, seemingly ignorant of all the laws of inertial physics. The cruisers followed soon after, then by the corvettes and the destroyers._

_Finally, after a full minute, the vortex's rotation began to slow, and it grew smaller. Gradually, it all but disappeared into the vacuum of space, almost as if it – and the fleet it had just consumed – had never existed in the first place._

_However, this gateway did have an exit. In another universe, and indeed, another galaxy altogether, a similar structure lay in the orbit of a lonely gas giant, which in turn continued in its slow, long orbit of the sun. It was identical to the first structure, except that there was no ring rotating around this one. _

_But that did not change its purpose, to act as a gateway for those that wished to pass the gap between the universes. And as it opened a vortex similar to the one the other structure had displayed just seconds earlier, this was a purpose it was still well-suited for._

_The destroyers' fleet arrived in real-space with precision and ease. The fleet mind took over almost immediately and analyzed the situation. Finding no hostiles, the fleet mind then attempted to find out the nature of the aberration in this universe._

_It did not like what it saw. The aberrations had grown here at an unprecedented scale, and unlike the universe they had just come from, and fought hard to maintain, this one was on the verge of collapse. The energy-realm they used for travel and living was still relatively intact, however, so the fleet mind decided to take this to the next logical step._

_Armed with a copy of the device the ninth had brought in, the fleet mind decided to follow the orders given to it by the prime: make immediate contact with the ninth's alternate-race in this universe. Although they should have waited for the ninth to arrive, both they and the creation had agreed that time would be of the essence. The ninth would take time to come to a decision. But time was now what they had, and action was needed immediately. _

_Rather than wait, their small group had gone ahead with the intent of rallying allies, as it were. This was not possible in the universe they had come from, simply due to their past actions. However, there was a small amount of joy and happiness in both the prime and the fleet mind as they stepped foot in this new universe…for unlike there, here they would be getting a second chance…a second chance to set things right, as it were, and to hopefully put their horrible acts behind them._

_The fleet mind moved its ships into subspace and set a course through the nodes. Eventually this course would lead them through to a variety of star systems, till finally they would reach their destination._

_Unbeknownst to them, this destination was currently embroiled in the middle of a vast conflict; one where the ninth's alternate-race was fighting for it's very survival. This alternate-race was known to the aggressors as the UNSC, and the aggressors themselves were a race of beings that, in another universe, time and place, had been wiped out by the forces of time, fate and a civilization that had, in turn, been exterminated by the great destroyers. _

_This race, the Covenant, as they called themselves, did not know of the cruelty or destruction that the race they called the forerunners had shown them in another lifetime and another existence. However, little did they realize there, or here, that that cruelty and destruction would shield them against the wraith of the destroyers?_

_And now, as the Great Destroyers closed towards Earth, the Covenant would soon learn the legacy and truth of the lie upon which they had placed most of their faith._

_For quite simply for them, this was nothing short of faith's mere end._


End file.
